


Forbidden For a Reason

by Shenandoah76209



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Chronicles of Riddick Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-06-04 02:08:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 79,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6636814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shenandoah76209/pseuds/Shenandoah76209
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He couldn't be a Muggle, they couldn't see Hogwarts.  But he didn't look like a wizard.  In her experience wizards did not have muscles like his or glowing silver eyes.  And they definitely didn't move like predators.</p><p>Hermione didn't know what to make of the strange man seemingly living in the Forbidden Forest.  But one of these days her curiosity would get the better of her.  Or maybe his would get the better of him.</p><p>After all Richard B. Riddick had to learn about the world he'd landed in somehow. Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

Hermione looked up from her book as Ron shouted from his broomstick. Another amazing save. Thank Merlin for books or she'd be bored to tears during Quidditch practice. The witch had nearly redirected her attention back to her text when movement at the edge of the Forbidden Forest caught her eye.

A man was standing there. A man dressed like a Muggle in black fatigues and boots with a dark wife beater shirt straining over his chest and revealing broad muscular shoulders and arms. He was clean shaven, either naturally bald or he shaved his head and strangest of all he wore goggles over his eyes.

His head tilted as if he was taking in the activity on the Quidditch pitch before he deliberately seemed to look away. And like smoke he drifted back into the forest.

Hermione stared at the spot where the man had been and frowned. Hogwarts had anti-Muggle wards all around the castle and grounds, so the man couldn't be a Muggle. Now that the war was over the wards were stronger than ever and Headmistress McGonagall would never let a stranger onto the grounds. She took the welfare and safety of her students very seriously.

So the man had to be someone known to the staff. An eccentric wizard visitor? But why would he be in the Forbidden Forest? Why hadn't she seen him in the castle at all? Or at least heard rumors of a mysterious visitor? She might keep irregular hours what with her classes and studying for NEWTs but the rumor mill ran just as swiftly and madly as ever. She would have heard something about this man. 

Quickly she ran through her mental catalogue of all the gossip she'd heard. Nothing about a wizard eccentric enough to dress Muggle. Nothing about a Muggle resident. Nothing. The only gossip she'd heard was about Hagrid's new animals. Some type of rare and dangerous cat.

Hermione was suddenly glad that Crookshanks was in her room. The half kneazle was insatiably curious and wouldn't have hesitated to investigate. She smiled ruefully. Curiosity was a trait she shared with her familiar.

8888

Two weeks later and she still hadn't heard anything about the mysterious wizard. But at least she had some time free to visit Hagrid. He always knew what was going on in the Forbidden Forest. But this time he just smiled and shook his head. "Best ta leave it alone Hermione," he'd told her in his kindly way. "It's called the Forbidden Forest for a reason."

Her boulder by the lake was pleasantly warmed by the sun and the Muggleborn witch stared over the water with a frown of concentration. It simply wasn't possible for someone to get past the wards. You couldn't even portkey into Hogwarts much less apparate. In order to get past the gates you had to be on the list. And that list was very carefully approved by McGonagall and Flitwick. 

Hermione rolled her eyes at herself. She was becoming a bit obsessed with finding out who the mysterious man was. And she had to ask herself why she cared. If the man was someone who would be a danger to the students or the returned 'heroes' of the war finalizing their education the professors would be out in force. Or the aurors would be there scouring the forest. Professor McGonagall would have made an announcement about a strange man to be avoided at all costs. None of those things had happened.

She was interested because nothing else was interesting at the moment, the witch admitted to herself. Magic was still amazing, classes could occupy her mind and she had her choice of careers but nothing called to her heart. Least of all Ron Weasley. She'd finally figured out that her attraction to Ron had more to do with the constant peril they found themselves in than any love of his personality.

The young woman wrinkled her nose. No table manners, thick as a board and absentmindedly insulting were not the magical trio to make her swoon. Not to mention the emotional depth of a teaspoon. She had nothing in common with Ron Weasley besides magic, Harry Potter and school.

Maybe it was her Muggle upbringing, but wizards all seemed a bit scrawny to her. Her dad wasn't a body builder but he played rugby in college and was still a pretty big guy. And it wasn't as if she expected a wizard to be built like a movie star but it didn't seem like too much to ask that they be able to do some manual labor.

Hermione giggled to herself as she got up and began to walk near the forests edge. She needed some fresh lilithseed for a potion and would likely find it near the trees. Another chuckle escaped her as she knelt and began harvesting some of the plants. The idea of Ronald Weasley or any of the boys in her class having any idea what to do with hammer, nail or shovel was ludicrous.

Her summers had been spent doing housework the Muggle way, exercising and trying to work her body into something that wouldn't look bad in a bikini with at least some success. Harry was the same way; the Dursleys worked him hard when he was home. They'd compared horror stories about weeds, gardening and dirt with Harry adding mowing and digging to the tales. They'd once spent half an hour comparing notes on floor scrubbing techniques. Ron had just stared at them in horror. Apparently getting rid of garden gnomes was the height of his physical exertion and what he considered hard labor.

It was another thing she and Harry had in common. Even she couldn't spend all her time buried in books. And physical exercise was a nice way to relax her brain. So at Hogwarts she'd done her best to do something without her wand besides running around the lake in the mornings. Helping Hagrid with his garden was one thing that she and Harry did. The half giant had loved that they'd spend a Saturday or Sunday morning with him, chatting and weeding and in general doing things the way he did, without magic.

She actually should see if Hagrid needed any help with his pumpkin harvesting this year. Rolling the huge things along would be a good workout for her arms and legs. Another few stops for potions ingredients and she'd nearly be at his hut anyway.

A conjured bag would contaminate the seeds she carried and she hadn't thought to bring one of her baskets. Hermione shrugged and took her long sleeved shirt off. The sleeveless teeshirt underneath it was tight but no one but Hagrid would see her anyway.

Potions ingredients safely bundled into her shirt she headed for Hagrid's little house, unaware of the eyes watching her from within the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: So my first attempt at this particular crossover. Story isn't finished but I'm over fifty pages in and I've got an idea of where I'm going. Chapter lengths will vary wildly so don't be surprised. Let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy.


	2. Chapter 2

She could not shake the feeling that she was being watched. Anyone who hadn't lived through a war might have dismissed the feeling. But paying attention to her instincts had saved her life more than once. So despite the seeming safety of Hagrid's garden and the growing pumpkins she slipped her wand out of its holster and into the palm of her hand, half concealed against her arm. 

The witch looked around and forced herself not to squint on the growing twilight. She'd been working for a while now, hoping to finish a portion of the garden before night fell but it looked as if she'd have to finish tomorrow.

And then the same man she'd seen before drifted out of the Forbidden Forest, complete with fatigues and straining black shirt, though this time his goggles were resting on his forehead and his eyes glowed catlike silver in the dim light. Uneasy though she'd been, Hermione still nearly started in surprise at the sight of him. He'd appeared with the suddenness of apparition but without any sound of displaced air.

"Who are you?" She pointed her wand in his direction while keeping the bulk of it against her wrist and palm. It was a trick she and Harry had worked out for a few spells. With a bit more power behind them, the movements didn't need as much precision. 

His laugh, when it came, was low, wicked and seemed to drift like shadows around her. "Think you got a chance against me little girl?" Silver eyes gleamed mockingly. "Why'n't you put away that little stick an' relax. Haven't hurt you yet, even with the way you've been wanderin' around. Not about to start."

Hermione shook her head. "Who are you?" She stood and stared back at him before folding her arms a bit impatiently. He wasn't British; his accent was foreign, almost American sounding.

"Why don't we try this again sweetness," His voice was a deeply masculine drawl of coffee with whiskey and a spoonful of honey swirled through it. "You tell me your name, and I'll tell you mine."

"I'm Hermione Granger." Her stare turned into a glare that only made the big man laugh.

"Huh. Well I'm Richard B. Riddick, Hermione Granger," He took a half step forward and sat down on one of Hagrid's pumpkins. The knife he produced from nowhere flipped back and forth on his fingers with casual expertise spoke more eloquently of how dangerous he was than any threat he might make.

She shook her head and absently murmured a spell so she could see in the dark the way he clearly could already. His features became more defined and she blinked as his face became clear to her. It wasn't a classically beautiful face, not like Malfoy's or Harry's. He didn't wear boyish charm like a cloak the way Ron did. This was a man; it was plain as day and written on his face with experience and a ruthless nature not at all disguised by the sardonic tilt of his mouth. 

He was unlike anyone she'd met in the magical world and she was vividly conscious that she was staring. "Get a good look?" His voice was filled with amusement as she blushed over her rude behavior. When she considered the entire situation she felt like blushing again over her stupidity. She'd survived dragons and trolls, bank robberies and death eaters but this man had her staring like she was twelve and he was Gilderoy Lockhart.

"Yes." She retorted to cover her embarrassment. "Did you?

"Not near enough." His lewd gaze traveled with obvious appreciation over her body and face and his sensual mouth twisted into a smirk as she blushed slightly. “Why every woman around here wears robes like a nun or a Chrislam I have no clue. You’re gardening in the damn things even.”

Hermione shrugged her unconcern. “We’re in Scotland, its chilly here.” She rolled her eyes. “And it’s been suggested that I wear robes over my jeans and shirts because displaying my figure is considered ‘unseemly and immodest’.”

That was met with derisive chuckling from the man who’d named himself Richard B. Riddick. “Who told you that? Some old crone of a woman, wrinkled as a raisin and sour as curdled milk? Or someone who has a teenage boy with the hots for you?”

“The latter,” Hermione still felt the itch of irritation when she thought of Molly Weasley’s condescending instructions. “Apparently it doesn’t matter that I don’t return his regard. Only that I’m female so his ogling must be my fault.”

“Yeah it’d be your fault, lookin’ the way you do.” His agreement was unexpected and she was about to retort sharply when he continued in that slow thoughtful drawl. “But it ain’t your problem. He can’t sack up and keep his trousers zipped he’s the dumbass with his prick hanging out.”

The mental image he conjured startled a giggle out of her and she shook her head. “You don’t talk like anyone I’ve ever met. And I’ve met werewolves, thieves and killers.”

“Well you just met another one,” He clarified when she tilted her head in curiosity. “Killer.”

It was his turn to be surprised, a flash of shock on his face when she simply shrugged. “We just fought a war. Technically I could be considered a killer too.” She looked around and realized it was full dark now. “Are you…living in the Forbidden Forest Mr. Riddick?”

“Got a shelter of sorts. Not the worst place I’ve stayed. Big fella who lives in the hut there said nobody’d bother me long’s I stayed out of Centaur territory and didn’t kill the unicorns or thestrals.” He seemed unconcerned about his potential exposure to the weather.

“I’m surprised he didn’t offer you a bed,” Hermione knew Hagrid and the man was a bit dim but big hearted. He’d offer Mr. Riddick his entire house if he thought the man had nowhere else to go.

“Sleep better in my own space,” His eyes gleamed with a wicked light and Hermione could feel her blush warming her cheeks. “Less you’re offerin’ to share a mattress with me. I’d put up with stone walls if it mean warming the sheets with you.”

“Flattering as that is, I don’t sleep with men I don’t know.” The witch hoped her tone was firm and not trembling like her insides.

“Wasn’t talking about sleeping. But we could do that too.” His chuckle was pure sin.

“Fine. I don’t have sex with men I don’t know.” She rolled her eyes. Sex was a non-issue as far as she was concerned. It was something that wasn’t so wonderful it couldn’t wait for summers in France where she could have a little romance and be back home with no one in the wizarding world the wiser. She was sure that Ron thought she was a virgin. Harry, she was certain, knew differently, simply from a few of the jokes she’d understood. Some things only experience could teach; dirty jokes and the appreciation of them was one of them. 

The summer after she’d turned sixteen Harry had commented on her shoes and she’d grinned at him. She wasn’t wearing heels but the sway in her hips when she walked made it seem like she was. From the grin that had danced over his lips he’d known she wasn’t the innocent everyone assumed but he’d kept his silence on the subject. Wizarding morality, and annoyance with the antiquity of it, was one more thing she and Harry had in common.

“Bouncing on one of those guys flying around on sticks?” The question was pure curiosity.

“No,” She shook her head. “I have nothing in common with the redhead and the other one is more like my brother.”

“Not into men?” It wasn’t an accusation, just more curiosity.

“Not into near death experiences,” Hermione told him flatly. “I’m not stupid enough to invite a wizard I don’t know into the castle and let him bounce on me, to use your vernacular, when it could very well mean my death. You could be anyone under that face.”

“You could bounce on me if you wanted, I’m… open minded as to position,” He was teasing her now. “But I’m no wizard. Kinda the opposite.”

“What’s the opposite of a wizard?” Hermione had never heard anyone describe themselves that way. “You mean you’re a regular person? Wizards call them Muggles. Always sounded like a breed of dog to me. Insulting. But you can’t be because there are anti-Muggle wards on Hogwarts.”

“Nah,” He shook his head, eyes still on her. “I mean magic don’t work on me. Not that glowy green spell or any other type. When I first showed up here, some motherfucker thought it’d be funny to throw a bunch a different things at me. Nothing worked. Not even when he threw a boulder at me with his wand thing. Just passed right through me.”

“Like you’re a ghost?” Hermione could feel her bump of curiosity itching with the need to figure out the mystery.

“Nope. I picked up a rock and threw it right back at him. It hit him square in the face. Dumb fuck.” Riddick rolled his eyes. “What kinda idiot doesn’t duck when something gets thrown at him?”

“Someone who has a shield spell up generally,” Hermione retorted dryly. “Or because he thought you were a ghost or some sort. How did you get here?”

“Really wish I knew,” He shrugged. “One minute I’m stuck on a ship full of assassins and sycophants and the next I’m here. I pop in the middle of spook central, complete with stupid masks and robes, throw a coupla knives and get the hell out of there only to find out that I’m not even in the same damn galaxy. You tell me it’s Scotland but as far as I’m concerned it may as well be heaven or hell. But according to everything I’ve heard and read the chances of my ass being admitted through the pearly gates are exactly slim and none.”

She couldn’t help the laugh that spilled from her lips. “Well if you’d shown up six months ago you might just have thought you were in hell. This whole place was a battleground.”

“I did show up six months ago.” He informed her dryly. “Dunno what the fuck that idiot was thinkin’ to yank me outa my world but he managed it. And I got no way to get back. Coupla folks the big man sent by did some stick waving and mumbo jumbo and said that there was no way back. The short one, like midget short, did some hocus pocus on the spot where I showed up. He said that whoever summoned me was trying for a demon and got their incantation wrong. Something about Latin endings and Gaelic translations. ‘Stead of 'Greatest Evil' the guy was callin’ for ‘Big Evil’.”

“And they ended up with you.” Hermione blinked and blinked again. “Why would ‘Big Evil’ get you? You’re hardly the devil.”

His laugh was low and mean and still sent her nerve endings trembling. “Few folks called me ‘Big Evil’ ‘bout eight years back. Callin’ me the name they shoulda given themselves. Whatever else I am, killer, thief, an’ bastard, I’m no child killer.”

“Well that’s good to know considering you’re living near a school.” The witch shrugged. “Would you mind if I tried a spell on you? Nothing harmful.”

“Wanna test the hypothesis or something?” He tilted his head warily. “What’s your spell supposed to do?”

“A simple warming charm.” She replied promptly. “I don’t even need a wand for it. I’ve done these so often I’m nearly wordless with them.”

“Long’s it don’t set me on fire, go ahead.” Riddick shrugged his indifference and waited, his body tensed almost imperceptibly for an attack.

A quiet murmur and she felt the magic leave her and surround Riddick. His blink of surprise was almost as eloquent as a start and she grinned. “So it worked then.”

He nodded. “Kinda weird. Wonder why?”

Hermione shrugged. “Could be because I didn’t use a wand. Or because the intent isn’t hostile. Has anyone else cast anything for you?”

“Nah, not after they first found me. A few spells that didn't work. The old lady and the midget seemed more worried about what I was doing here than experimenting on me. And the big fella, Hagrid? He says he ain’t allowed to do magic. So the point’s been kinda moot.”

“I wonder,” Hermione took off on her train of thought, lips moving slightly as she stared at him and into space simultaneously. She was deep in her thoughts when something foreign startled her out of them.

His mouth was pressing to hers, nibbling and teasing as if he was trying to taste her flesh. Her lower lip was sucked between his and his tongue laved the rough spot where she was prone to biting it when deep in thought. And when she gasped into his mouth he took immediate advantage, his tongue invading and dueling with hers.

His body was warm, almost blazing and firm against her, so close they’d be hard pressed to slide a piece of parchment between them. One hand was firm between her shoulder blades, her braid wrapped around his fist while the other was splayed over her backside, squeezing and kneading appreciatively.

The moan that shocked her into movement was her own, though it was closely followed by a guttural masculine groan no less erotic for all its blatant frustrated need. Pulling away from him was surprisingly easy though his fists clenched at his sides and his trousers did nothing to hide his arousal from her gaze. “Woman, we are gonna finish this.” He warned her in a low near growl of a voice.

For one highly embarrassing moment she couldn’t speak. Then she managed to form words and force them over her tongue. “I…I have no doubt. But it won’t be now.” She looked towards the castle and sighed. “I have to be getting in. Are you…” When her gaze turned back to him, Riddick was already at the edge of the forest. “Hungry?” She finished the question to his back.

A shake of his head and a wave of his hand was her answer and the witch huffed in more than one kind of frustration before she turned and began to trudge up to the castle.


	3. Chapter 3

Her days took on a strange sort of pattern after that. For several months whenever she made an appearance near the forest Riddick would melt out of the shadows to accompany her on her small errands. He seemed interested in learning about her, and she gradually became more closely acquainted with him. They talked more about magic and she explained the theory and how dependent a witch or wizard was upon their wand. He returned the favor, showing her how easily he carved and used knives, or shivs, and how dangerous they could be when used properly. Not that she had any doubts regarding the danger of a blade after her experiences with Bellatrix. He enjoyed that she had a healthy respect for his skills, even not knowing exactly why.

He made no secret of his enjoyment when he looked at her, big hands occasionally gliding over a curve he found too tempting to ignore. His habit of calling her 'sweetness' felt like a compliment each time he said it. Weeding Hagrid's garden was far more pleasant with his company and the work moved faster with Riddick's help. Their little experiments with magic, its effects on him and his ability to ignore spells, continued unnoticed by Hagrid or any other inhabitant of the school.

"So you ever gonna give me the go ahead?" He asked her out of the blue one day.

Hermione looked up at him curiously as she carefully plucked mushrooms from the ground. "The go ahead?"

"To do more than kiss you." He clarified, his silver eyes heated. "I've gone longer but usually it's without having temptation right in front of me."

She blinked in surprise, "I wasn't aware I was considered a temptation Riddick." Hermione thought about it. She had been keeping him at a short arms length, allowing a kiss or two but nothing too heated and not for long. It wasn't as if she was used to being pursued. The consensus of most of her classmates seemed to be that she was genderless, and not even an elegant sort of androgynous, just plain old sexless. Each time he kissed her was a surprise all over again.

"You're a fucking torment," He nodded emphatically. "Now if you got reasons, other than just cock teasing me, I can respect 'em. But it'd be nice to know."

Hermione looked at him consideringly, "I do have reasons. I told you I don't have sex with someone just for the sake of it. Apart from what I'd be called if I did, I don't believe in it. Sex means something to me besides an itch to scratch."

"All right," Riddick folded his arms and his look was a challenge. "Gimme a reason."

She stood straight and covered the mushrooms with a cloth in the basket before answering him, "I've had encounters that were...brief and I've learnt I don't like how I felt afterwards, even when it was a summer romance. I don't like knowing that intimacy I've begun has an end date."

He tilted his head, "So you don't want a fling. Or affair, or whatever."

"No. I don't." Hermione shook her head. "I want a relationship. Even if it ends some day, I don't want to go into it knowing it'll end. So I promised myself that anyone I contemplated that intimacy with would meet my family."

"Thought you said your parents were in Australia?" Riddick was looking at her with a speculative gaze now. As if she'd become some sort of mystery to figure out. In a way that was flattering. From everything she'd learned about Richard B. Riddick he rarely gave a damn about anyone and almost never had trouble figuring people out. People were no mystery to him. But she'd surprised him at least and that was something.

"They are. I knew when I sent them there that I'd never see them again. But they're alive, which is more than they would be if they'd stayed through the war." Hermione sighed and shook her head.

"So what family do you want me to meet?" He was still trying to figure her out and Hermione gave him a half smile.

"My brother in all but name and blood," She told him quietly. "If you meet him and you two get along, then...I can try this. If you will."

He'd come closer to her than she realized, his movement lightening quick and silent as shadow, hands wrapping around her waist and pulling her tight to his body. "Woman you are a quandary." He muttered, "Got no idea what I want to do with you, to you, or you wouldn't tease."

"You're sure I have no idea Riddick?" Hermione tilted her head back to look up at him. "I think I can guess." His body against hers made it abundantly clear what he'd like to do with her, one thigh pushing between her legs, groin pressing at the apex of her thighs as he wrapped her braid around his fist and tugged her face further back.

"Woman..." He growled the warning, his other hand sliding down from the small of her back to squeeze her ass. "You keep cock-teasing me like this and I'll take you right here. I'll just cut your clothes right off."

"And then I'd have to walk back to school naked." Hermione smirked up at him. "Is that what you want Riddick?"

His growl was a resounding negative as he brought his mouth down to hers and began to devour, hunger and fury filling her with heat as he kissed and sucked on her lips and tongue. With a snarl he tore his mouth from hers and pulled her shirt apart at the buttons, revealing her collarbone beneath the plain white uniform shirt. Teeth grazed her skin as his mouth sucked hard on the tender flesh at the base of her neck, pulling it into his mouth.

Hermione couldn't help the jolt that shot through her body, echoing hot between her thighs as his mouth sucked and feasted on her skin. The moan that escaped her lips was entirely unconscious and she didn't realize until he'd lifted his head that one of her hands was cradling the back of his skull, encouraging him.

"I ought pull out those pretty tits and just tease you like you've been teasing me." He growled against her skin, tongue licking the sore spot over her collarbone. "Put my mark on you other places." His mouth drifted down, pushing her shirt aside, his hands pulling it open, until half her bra was exposed and the curves of her breasts were plain.

"What's th' matter? No argument?" His dark eyes were smirking at her, taunting, daring her to tell him to stop when they both knew she wanted to keep going. "Don't matter. Even if you told me to stop, I can tell you don't really wanna." That dangerous mouth brushed over the swell of her breasts, tongue flicking at her skin and she moaned again. "You want to be wrapped around me. I know it and you know it. So why are you makin' me jump through hoops?" He thrust his hips to hers, his cock rubbing right up against her mound, pressure just where she needed it.

"Because," Hermione finally gasped out the words, straining and desperate against him, struggling to breathe let alone speak. "Because you're... you're worth more than just a fuck Riddick." She shivered as his mouth left her skin, his dark eyes staring down at her in something like shock. "I...I like you. Really like you."

"Don't fuckin' bullshit me." He was staring down at her with a look of implacable fury, his body stiff and angry against hers, no longer warm or teasing and she felt cold and terribly alone under that gaze. "Nobody fuckin' 'likes' me. People're afraid of me, maybe respect what I can do, but they don't like me. I'm a killer. And worse."

She lifted her chin, stubbornness standing her in good stead. "I like you. And I don't like very many people. You're never boring and you listen to me. I like to hear you talk and I like what you say and how you say it. I like that you can be blunt or delicate in equal measure and you never ignore me or roll your eyes over how carried away I can get. I like how you touch me, even when you're trying to manipulate me into sex." She rolled her eyes. "I even like that you gave me a hickey. And I normally despise men trying to mark me as property."

"You're full of shit," He let her go so suddenly that she nearly fell and he let her slump back against the tree he'd pressed her to with a black scowl of pure disbelief. "I don't know what your game is but I ain't playin'." She stared at him in astonishment. Hadn't anyone ever offered him friendship? Or affection? Found him worthy of the simplest of bonds? From his furious, distrusting expression, she would have to guess that she was the first.

"It's not a game." Hermione told him softly. He was retreating. Drifting back into the shadows he knew so well. "It's never been a game to me." She cast a warming charm at his back and knew he'd felt it from the slight pause in his gait before he continued onward. Louder, so he'd hear her as he walked away, she called, "If you want to meet my brother...if you still want me, for more than a fling...come to the castle. I'll introduce you."

He turned and glared at her, silver eyes shining in the darkness of the forest before he disappeared completely into its depths.

Hermione sighed and buttoned up her shirt, making sure the lovebite he'd left on her collarbone was covered, picked up her basket and began walking back to the castle. With her luck she'd never see him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: So here we are. Another shorter chapter. But this seemed like a good stopping point. As for the reasons Hermione is allowing Riddick liberties, in chapter two and three, that will be explained in a future chapter. It's not going to be a big deal but it is explained.


	4. Chapter 4

One week later, the love bite faded to a barely there bruise, Hermione expected she’d seen the last of Riddick, and was caught completely by surprise. Riddick was walking into the great hall as if he owned the place. Professor Flitwick rose from his place at the head table as he caught sight of the man and Hermione found herself turning to watch as the Charms master walked towards the stranger.

She wasn’t the only one who’d noticed Riddick. Harry and Ron as well as nearly every other student had seen Flitwick leave the table and no one could miss the tall dark man with goggles over his eyes. 

His head tilted and turned almost imperceptibly suggesting that his gaze beneath the goggles was scanning the hall and the tables therein for something or someone. The barely there movement stopped when she tilted her head and he ignored Flitwick to stride towards her.

“Holy crap,” Harry murmured. “Who is that?” He was scanning the newcomer with quick eyes too used to looking for threats. For a young man of eighteen he’d seen far too many assassination attempts. From the wary expression on his face he was wondering if he was about to face one more as his observations continued. “And why doesn’t he have a wand? I can see he has knives, but no wand. He’s dressed like a Muggle but they can’t even find Hogwarts much less walk inside.”

“Mr. Riddick,” Hermione stood and greeted him formally as he reached her. Flitwick had followed behind him and was staring from Riddick to herself and back as if trying to determine when they’d met by sheer deduction.

“Hermione,” Riddick pushed his goggles to his forehead, his grin was still wickedly sensuous as it spread his lips wide. “Wanted to see if we could do more of those experiments. See what takes and what doesn’t. If you meant what you said. Did you?” His mouth was smiling but his eyes were dark and watchful, waiting to see what she'd do, if she'd slap him down.

“Hmmm…” She tilted her head curiously. “I have class today. And I haven’t been given any reason to rearrange my life and schedule at the drop of your whim.” She took a deep breath, nerves riding her voice, "But I meant everything I said."

His chuckle sounded a little rusty but still warm and sinful as it traveled through the air and seemed to caress her cheek, his posture easing somewhat at her reassurance. “So I follow you around and watch. Could be interesting. And if it isn’t, I’ll just amuse myself. Got books I can read right?”

“It’s not up to me Mr. Riddick,” She was tempted. And by more than the thought of experiments. That mouth and his hands and the feel of him pressed against her... Oh was she tempted. And it would be interesting to see what he thought of her classes. Transfiguration and Charms along with Potions, Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, not that she had Potions or Transfiguration today. Still, the other three were always interesting and two of them didn’t even call much for a wand.

“How ‘bout it?” Riddick was looking at Professor Flitwick. “Can I tag along with her to class? See what you do here?” His fingers had found her braid and were gently stroking over the plait.

“Well as you don’t have a wand and therefore cannot attack any of the students I don’t see any problem with you observing the classes. However, Headmistress McGonagall may have something to say about it.” Professor Flitwick was hedging his bets and it was actually rather amusing. “We’ll see if she agrees with me.” He led Riddick towards the head table where McGonagall was just sitting down to breakfast in a plain chair no different than any other used by the staff. 

Hermione grinned as she recalled the Professor’s irritation with the throne-like chair and her abrupt banishment of it to some storage room. The new Headmistress had obviously decided that every teacher was equal and that there were no assigned seats as far as the head table went. She’d taken meals with different members of the staff depending on her and their moods and so far it seemed to be going well.

“Who is that?” Harry asked in a low voice as Flitwick and Riddick walked away.

The witch shrugged as Ron stared at her, equally curious though less suspicious than Harry, simply by being more interested in his meal than anything else. “Someone I met while I was gardening. Hagrid knows him a bit. His name’s Richard B. Riddick. He’s been living in the Forbidden Forest.”

“Since when?” Harry wasn’t completely satisfied with that answer. Ron, however, had gone back to shoveling food in his mouth. Hermione averted her eyes.

“Around the final battle?” She focused on peppering her eggs. “He’s interesting.”

Her best friend, the wizard the most like a brother to her, snickered even as he turned to gaze thoughtfully at Riddick and Flitwick. Harry knew her well enough to know that interesting was one of her biggest compliments. “He doesn’t look like a wizard. But he’s like no Muggle I’ve ever met either. He’s dangerous, the same way Remus could be dangerous.”

Hermione shrugged and decided she wouldn’t mention Riddick’s immunity to magic just yet. “I know that Harry, but he’s not a werewolf. He can see in the dark without a spell, flips a knife around his knuckles the way a magician would a coin and he’s huge. I think his eyes are really sensitive though. Hence the goggles during the day.”

“I don’ like ‘em,” Ron’s words came out garbled as he’d neglected to swallow before he spoke. “’E’s creepy; looks like a Slytherin.”

The two Muggle raised students regarded their Pureblood friend with identical expressions of frustration. “It doesn’t matter if you don’t like him Ron,” Harry explained finally. “He wasn’t even talking to you.”

“But he’s talking to Hermione and she’s my girl. So that matters. You aren’t to talk to him again.” Ron addressed that last bit to Hermione. He’d have been better off if he’d been talking to Harry.

“I’m not to—How dare you!” The witch hissed at him. “I am not your property Ronald Bilius Weasley. I’m not your relation or your girlfriend. And I don’t ever want to be.”

“Yes you are!” He actually had the gall to argue with her. “You’ve been spending summers with my family for years. We were on the run together all last year. We have…that…stuff…the stuff you’re always goin’ on about that isn’t potions. Chemicals. We have chemicals together.”

“No. We don’t.” Hermione’s voice was cold as ice. “What we have is a spectacular failure to communicate. I spent some time during the summers with you because I like your family and because I thought you were my friend. We were on the run because I’m Muggleborn and I’m Harry’s friend. I wanted to help him. During which time you left us both. We do not have chemistry. What we have is a ridiculous amount of arguing about stupid things due to different values and beliefs.”

“We’ve been dating the whole year. What was all that watching me practice Quidditch and sitting with me for chess games and teaching me spells! You’ve been mooning over me for four years and now that I give in and say ‘yeah you’re my girlfriend’ you change your bloody mind?” Ron really had no idea just how much danger he was in of being turned into a weasel.

Hermione had just enough time to see Harry’s eyes widen, his wand was in his hand and muttering the Expelliarmus to no effect before a large hand grabbed Ron by the scruff of the neck and his robes while the other, holding a very sharp knife, pressed the edge to his carotid. “You had better watch how you’re talking to my woman.” The dark voice was chilling in its fury and purpose. “Because I don’t bother with spells. I want blood I get it the old fashioned way.”

“Mr. Riddick—“ Hermione began and was cut off.

“Just Riddick sweetness. Or Richard, Rick, Big Evil if you like, take your pick, but no one’s put a mister in front of my name for years, unless they were being ironic.” The grin he gave her was no less warm for his threatening hold on Ron, but she was back to 'sweetness' and he was genuinely smiling at her again. And now her knees were going weak under that warm gaze for reasons completely unrelated to Ron’s peril.

“It wouldn't have been polite to call you just Riddick in front of other people until you said I might." Hermione explained softly. "Riddick then,” she continued in a normal tone. “I’m not your woman. No more than I am his.”

“Well no, not yet, but I’m workin’ on that.” Riddick chuckled wickedly. “I at least gave notice of my intentions didn’ I?”

She recalled his kisses and declaration of what he'd like to do to her in heart pounding and minute detail and blushed. She'd given him an ultimatum and he'd taken a bit but he'd come to see her, to start something with her, despite it being against his own habits. “I suppose you did at that.” 

“So I’ve got some rights to kick the shit out of this little…idiot for talkin’ to you that way.” The self-named killer drew his own conclusions.

“But not the right to kill him Riddick. You told me you don’t kill children. And that’s all he is, a child.” Hermione was looking at her supposed friend coldly. “A deluded and over-presumptive child. And there are first years here who don’t need to see any more violence.” She tilted her head in the direction of the small children down the length of the table.

Riddick hadn’t bothered to look at Ron during their conversation, keeping his eyes on her. Now his gaze switched to Harry, the change only made obvious by the minute shift of his skull since his goggles once more covered his eyes in the bright hall. “You’d be the one she considers her brother. What would you do with this…little prick who lets his mother talk down to his ‘friend’ and assumes she belongs to him because they shared houseroom?”

Harry’s emerald eyes had darkened with worry and anger when Ron had begun his argument with Hermione and they’d seeped to nearly black when Riddick had then grabbed Ron. Now though, they’d brightened to an almost normal shade of dark green as he regarded his friend, still held at knifepoint. “I suppose if I were paying court to her, regardless of how short a progression that courtship had, I’d be pretty pissed off with whoever mouthed off.” His gaze darkened again, almost imperceptibly, as he considered. “And as Hermione’s brother, anyone who thinks he, or she, has a claim on her will have to go through me, if my sister isn’t interested.” He grinned at Hermione cheekily. “After all, I don’t judge.”

Hermione blushed and shook her head vividly conscious of Riddick’s face turning towards her and the sinful smile curving his lips. “Well now that’s interesting,” He practically crooned the words at her.

“And completely speculative on Harry’s part, without any basis in fact or past behavior,” Hermione rolled her eyes and struggled to control her blushing.

“Speculation’s not completely inaccurate from the reaction.” Riddick murmured his voice almost seductive, as he studied her. Hermione nearly shivered, remembering the last time he'd sounded like that, how it had felt to be pinned under his hot silver gaze and pressed between his body and the tree.

“That’s sick!” Ron had finally figured out what the conversation was about and just had to run his mouth. “Foul, disgusting, perverted…” He seemed to run out of words and Hermione saw the moment when he seized upon the worst insult he could throw at her and wandlessly gagged him.

“Pity,” Professor McGonagall spoke icily from behind Hermione. “I was actually looking forward to expelling him for the use of that foul slur.” She moved forward to stand beside Hermione and stared at her Gryffindor. “Mr. Weasley, be certain I shall write your parents regarding your appalling language and narrow-minded world views. There are many witches who prefer the company of other witches to men. And wizards who dislike the company of witches compared to men. There is nothing wrong with it. It is a standard deviation occurring in nature and throughout many species. Our dear Professor Dumbledore was homosexual and there was nothing ‘perverted, sick, disgusting or foul’ about him.”

“So do you want his blood on the floor or not?” Riddick was chuckling and Hermione guessed that he really wasn’t interested in killing Ron but he did enjoy how freaked out the wizard was. His nostrils were flaring slightly as if he was inhaling an enjoyable scent. It was a habit of his she'd noticed but he'd never explained and she hadn't had the nerve to be nosy about it.

“I’d prefer not Mr. Riddick, the house elves have enough to do as it is.” Professor McGonagall’s voice was as unconcerned as if it was a question of what pudding to serve with dinner. “If you would remove your blade, classes will be starting in a few minutes and you haven’t even had breakfast.”

“Well it’s your hall,” Riddick shrugged and tucked the knife away so quickly that anyone not watching for it specifically would not have seen where he put it. “And I already ate, though looks like Hermione and her brother should finish their meals.” He gave Ron a shake by the scruff of his neck, “You’re done. Get your crap and go.” He dropped the wizard into his seat and took a wide step over the bench to sit on Hermione’s other side, ignoring Ron’s frantic scramble of a retreat.

The witch frowned slightly at him when Riddick slid closer to her as she took her seat, straddling the bench and pressing his thighs around her body so she felt surrounded by him. “Sure you don’t want something to eat Riddick?” She asked dryly as she finished her eggs.

“Nah,” He had a smile in his voice. “I’m just enjoyin’ how you smell sweetness. Crisp and clean and a touch of apples. ‘S nice.” One big hand was rubbing up and down the long braid that fell to her waist, teasing her gently by tugging on it and reminding her of other more intimate times he'd done the same thing.

“Sorry, but what do you mean how she smells?” Harry was plainly curious but he did manage to chew and swallow before he asked his question. Ron, thankfully, had gathered his things and practically run from the table. “Hermione doesn’t wear perfume, hasn’t in more than a year.

Riddick tilted his head at her, obviously wanting to hear why. The witch folded her bacon into the toast and created a sandwich wrapped in a napkin while Harry did the same. “I’ll tell you but not now. We’ve got to rush if we’re going to be on time for Charms.” She grabbed her book bag and gave Riddick a smile. “If you’re really serious about sitting in on the classes with us.”

“Wouldn’t a mentioned it if I wasn’t.” His slow grin sent a flush of heat over her skin that she concealed by hurrying away, he and Harry in tow.


	5. Chapter 5

Classes with Riddick were interesting to say the least. There were a lot of stares from the others in the seventh year, one of whom was Ginny Weasley. It was a source of some frustration to Hermione that they were mixed in with students younger in years but their supposed equals in schooling. She knew it was too much to ask for independent study but at the same time, to be constrained by a bell curve was annoying. Especially when some of the younger girls were far too busy trying to flirt with the older boys to actually pay attention in class.

Riddick seemed to take it in stride, the stares, whispers and questions gave no appearance of bothering him. He did grin when Hermione surreptitiously cast a charm on his eyes. His goggles were immediately pushed back and he looked around the class with interest. Unlike other non-magical people he didn’t seem startled by hovering objects or any of the other myriad effects charms could have.

Professor Flitwick came over to examine Riddick’s eyes, the Charms Master easily detecting the spell Hermione had cast. “Very good indeed Miss Granger,” He complimented her in his high fluting voice. “Mr. Riddick, should you wish that charm made permanent Miss Granger is well aware of how to do so. It should not impede your night vision at all.” He tilted his head in thought as he regarded the big male. “Though it does give counter weight to our theory that magic does not affect you.”

“Hermione proved that one wrong already, cast a warmin’ charm on me after we met.” Riddick chuckled. “We got a theory that it’s based on intent. Or maybe just that the moron that summoned me couldn’t do anything to me because he’s the one brought me here.”

“We could test that if you like.” The professor offered.

“We could…not exactly thrilled with boulders bein’ thrown at me though.” Riddick replied with a smirk.

“Well there are many charms which while not being precisely benign in their effects are not malevolent either.” Flitwick began to explain.

“Like this,” Ron Weasley had apparently decided to get some of his own back and cast a Petrificus Totalus on Riddick.

Hermione scowled furiously and cast a shield around the man who claimed to be courting her. “Protego!” She stood and glared at Ron. “How dare you cast on someone who doesn’t have a wand? Who doesn’t even know a shield to protect himself? In the back no less.”

Riddick stood with a growl, towering over her and Harry who was sitting on his other side, as well as the rest of the class. “That spell do what it sounded like it would?”

“It paralyzes you, makes you stiff as a board and you generally fall over,” Harry’s voice was quiet and even, to someone who didn’t know him well he would seem to be relaxed. Hermione however could feel the power her friend was using to hold himself in check. “It’s a cowardly thing to do, to cast when someone’s back is turned. I know Slytherins who wouldn’t do something so dishonorable.”

“Well, not now that we're free to behave in a manner that will reflect well upon our names,” Daphne Greengrass offered quietly. “Rather than keep our heads down and ignore the blatant bullying of our peers. Such...behavior is not what one would expect of a Pureblood ‘light’ family such as the Weasleys.”

“Oh shut it you lousy—“ Ginny was irked and ready to throw her two pence in for all the good it would do.

“Enough,” Professor Flitwick had plainly decided class had been disrupted enough for one day. “Mr. Riddick my profound apologies for the behavior of my student. Mr. Weasley, you are dismissed and shall not return to this class until I am convinced you have repented your actions. Five points to Gryffindor, Miss Granger, for an excellent shield and defense of our guest.”

“Points?” Riddick murmured quietly as he sat down again while Ron stormed out.

“It’s like a reward system, points given or deducted, the House with the most at the end of the year wins the House Cup. Those hourglasses full of jewels in the hall track them.” Harry murmured back, lazily directing his teapot to do a little dance across his desk while it kept the tea warm and inside the pot. “Tea?”

“Nah, thanks,” Riddick chuckled and looked at Hermione. “So you and the black haired chick are friends?”

“Greengrass?” Hermione shook her head. “We’re in competition for the top spot. She’s scrupulously fair. House rivalries pretty much prevented us from getting to know any of the Slytherins too well. She’s never hexed me though. So we’re…acquaintances.”

The big man shook his head thoughtfully but didn't comment on that issue. "So what are your other classes like?"

She slanted a teasing look at him and was gratified to receive a smile in return. "Probably not as exciting, but interesting enough. You'll have to wait and see."

"Well then I'll look forward to it." His low whiskey voice was practically purring.

8888

By dinner that evening Riddick had a million questions and showed every sign of understanding the answers. The seeming complexities of magic made no matter. To Riddick it seemed, Arithmancy, and its resemblance to Muggle higher mathematics, might as well have been the multiplication tables. Ancient runes had been something of a shock. Riddick could see the magic in them; the runes glowed to his sight as if outlined in purple fire. He didn't have the innate understanding of them that he had of Arithmancy but he described the flow of magic from one rune to the other and the overall pattern made in a way that made very clear he was seeing the power of the runes. 

“Can you do that with other magic too?” Harry wondered as Hermione explained what had happened at dinner. “This whole castle is magical after all.”

“Not everything looks purple if that’s what you mean,” Riddick shook his head. “Looks like I can just see where runes are carved in places.” He watched as food appeared on the table and regarded Hermione with a question in his eyes.

“It’s prepared in the kitchens and magicked to appear here.” She explained with a smile. “There’s a near army of house elves who work at Hogwarts.”

“Are those the little guys nobody notices?” The huge male wondered in his rumbling voice. “Always scrubbing or polishing somethin’?”

“So you can see people who are invisible too,” Hermione grinned at him. “Big ears and huge eyes? Short little things with rather pointed faces?” When he nodded she did the same. “Those are definitely house elves.”

“I wonder if you can see through an invisibility cloak?” Harry was musing aloud. “You mentioned something about your eyes being really good…”

“I can see in the dark. Never been out of my element where its dark since my eyes changed,” Riddick shrugged and slid closer to Hermione on the bench. His broad thigh rubbed against hers while his hand rested at the small of her back. When she looked at him curiously he just leaned in and inhaled with his lips nearly against her neck.

“Why do you do that?” Ginny decided to join the conversation regardless of whether or not she was invited, or wanted. “Sniff at her like you’re some kind of animal?”

“Ginny Weasley,” Harry exclaimed at the appalling manners of the girl he’d dated. It was an indication of how much the war had changed him that he hadn’t immediately begun to date her again after the conflict was over.

“What? He is,” Ginny jerked her chin towards Riddick. “No wonder Ron got a little upset.”

“A little upset?” Hermione glared at the girl coldly. “He was upset with me, not Riddick. He was a millimeter away from calling me a mudblood Ginny. And since I’m not dating, nor have I ever been dating your brother, Ronald has no excuse for his belligerence. And you have no reason to be rude to Riddick.” Ginny appeared somewhat gobsmacked by the other witch’s articulate refutation of the allegations and Hermione continued in a sickly sweet voice. “Oh, I’m sorry dear, belligerence means ill tempered, rude, hostile or violent.”

“Mock me all you want Granger,” Ginny had her nose in the air now. “But you still have to sleep in the dorms tonight. Nobody is impressed with your ‘better than everyone, know it all’ attitude.”

“Nor are they impressed by your extraordinary imitation of a slag,” Hermione snapped back. “If you want to be one of the school brooms go right ahead, but don’t expect me to cover for you with our head of house anymore.”

Ginny’s face turned red and she left the table in a fury. Harry shook his head and sighed. “The war changed everybody I think. Some of us…not for the better.” 

“Harry, she’s had her mind set on marrying you since she was a little girl. She’s just been unbearable lately because she thought that goal was in sight two years ago and now her plans have been completely derailed.” The Muggleborn witch said quietly. “You two really don’t even know each other all that well. The idea of you getting married after you graduate is ludicrous. As silly as the idea that just because we spent more than seven years in close proximity I should be dating Ronald.”

“I don’t really understand how he could think you were dating,” Harry admitted. “I knew he wanted to. But as far as I know he never even asked you out. So he couldn’t want to that much.”

“When has Ron ever done anything that required an effort unless it had to do with Quidditch?” Hermione sighed and shook her head. “He thought I’d just fall all over myself to date him because as far as he knows I’ve never dated anyone.”

“Not too observant is he?” Harry chuckled and Hermione grinned at him.

“No, not too very.” She agreed. 

Riddick's eyes had gone back and forth between the two of them, as he followed the conversation, eyebrows arched incredulously. “You mean he hasn’t even asked you out? Hasn’t kissed you? But he’s calling you his girl?”

Hermione looked at him and shook her head. “He kissed me once, or I should say, I kissed him, when he said something incredibly unselfish. A quick kiss on the lips, no more than two seconds and meant as a thank you, not a declaration of intent, passion or affection.”

“House elves?” Harry asked with a smirk.

“Precisely so.” Hermione chuckled and felt Riddick’s hand caressing her hip.

“So nothin’ else?” The large male asked with a half smile. “Anyone got any sorta claim on you? Someone you've dated in the past?"

“If they had I would have said so when you…declared your intent.” She smiled, “I mentioned no such thing did I?”

“That you didn’t.” He inhaled deeply of her skin again and near growled in pleasure. “So tell me then, why you don’t wear perfume? Not that you need it, good as you smell. Fucking delicious.”

Hermione sighed. “The year we were on the run, some…people almost found us. Only the wards I’d put up kept them out. But one of them could smell my perfume through the wards. I haven’t worn perfume since.”

“Huh, can see why that would put you off,” Riddick inhaled with a pleased smile on his lips. “But you still smell good. It’s your personal scent, you washed, so there’s a little bit of soap and water, plus your skin…has a little scent of apples to it. Means you eat apples, least one a day.”

“They’re good for you,” Hermione nodded as Harry looked from her to Riddick with wide eyes. “I guess this means your sense of smell is as acute as your vision?”

“Yeah, you could say. Hearing’s a lot better than average too. I'm not human, strict to say. I’m Furyan. We’re…different.” He chuckled and traced a hand over her braid and spine. “But at the base, we’re all startin’ from human. Just like you’re a witch, your brother’s a wizard…I’m Furyan.”

The witch tilted her head curiously. “Well, being a witch or a wizard means we have magic. What does being Furyan mean?”

His smile was more than a trifle wicked. “Means I got better than average senses. I heal faster. Do damn near everything better.” His smile didn’t change but his eyes were darker, wary, as he continued. “You could say the animal hindbrain is more…pronounced. My instincts are highly developed. So the little bitch wasn’t far off calling me an animal.”

“Still no reason for her to be rude,” Harry pointed out and Hermione nodded her agreement with a firm chin.

“She knows how I feel about that sort of prejudice. The Centaurs are literally half horse but that doesn’t make them any less of a person.” Hermione was nearly scowling at the thought and took Riddick’s huge hand in her own smaller one. “Werewolves have behavior similar to yours because they suffer from Lycanthropy. I’m born to two people without magic for at least three generations back and some people think that makes me inferior. It’s all the same sort of stupidity.”

“Most prejudice is,” Harry agreed and Riddick looked at him curiously. The dark haired wizard elaborated for the Furyan’s benefit. “Used to be people were looked down on for the color of their skin. Still are in some places. They thought blacks or easterners were stupid or barbaric because they weren’t white. It’s just an excuse to hate someone really. My Muggle relatives hated me because I was a wizard. Called me a freak.”

“There’s always something,” Riddick nodded and tugged Hermione a little closer, almost shielding her body with his.

“There always will be I think, until human beings can learn to change their nature.” Hermione agreed, turning slightly in his arms so her elbow didn’t gouge in him the abdomen.

“You alright?” His murmur against her skin was doing nothing to steady her equilibrium. “Am I crowding you too much?”

“It’s not you,” Hermione shook her head. “Someone’s… watching. I can feel it. The same way I knew you were watching me when I was in Hagrid's garden.” Across from her Harry had stiffened and begun to surreptitiously glance around the hall as he too felt the same effect.

“How’re you feeling it?” Riddick kept his voice to a murmur. “Hair on the back of your neck? Prickling along your spine?”

“All of that, yeah… It’s our magic,” Harry offered quietly when she nodded, tension riding her spine. “Since the war… Hermione and I… we know when someone’s got eyes on us in a bad way. Our magic is sensitive to it. Especially since Hermione was tortured.”

“Tortured?” Hermione stroked a hand up and down Riddick’s forearm when his voice went dangerously dark and low. “Who the fuck am I gonna get to kill?”

“She’s dead.” Hermione told him softly. “She was…insane. A follower of the man who summoned you. Ron and Ginny’s mother killed her.”

“So that family isn’t entirely useless.” He growled softly in his throat at the thought of the lanky freckle-faced boy. “Physically are you okay?”

“Why specify physically?” Harry asked before she could reply, giving her a chance to debate what to tell her would be suitor. “Why not just ask if she was okay?”

“Because I’ve been tortured and it takes longer than a few months to get over something like that.” Riddick said flatly. “I don’t see any scars, or feel any besides the words on her arm, and she doesn't walk with a limp like she’s got nerve damage. So I like to make sure. I get…enthusiastic about some things and I need to know if I need to take extra care.” He looked at Hermione, silver eyes dark and concerned. “I can be rough; most women who’ve wanted me like it that way. But I don’t have to be if you need something else from me. Surprised you let me touch you back in Hagrid’s garden.”

"And if what I needed was for you to wait?" Hermione asked softly. "Could you?" It felt as if she was holding her breath waiting for his answer. And part of her was grateful he hadn't mentioned the glimpse he'd gotten of the scar she'd received from Dolohov in fifth year.

He stared down at her for a long fraught moment, seeming to understand that this was a test he'd better not fail, before he nodded slowly. "I know how to be patient. Can't say I'd wait forever, but until the right time? Yeah. I know how to wait. That's how I've stayed alive so long. Might be a little difficult, you being so close...but we talked about that." His dark silver eyes were intent upon her face as he asked his question. "There a reason you need me to wait? Besides wanting to be sure?"

Her sigh of relief was followed by a shake of her head. "No, nothing like that. Just, as you said, a need to be sure. As sure as one can be in such...situations. I didn’t hex you when you first kissed me because you weren’t hurting me. I was surprised, but I wasn’t angry. I wasn't afraid of you."

“You think she was…” Harry couldn’t say the word, the very idea sickened him and Hermione felt Riddick relax around her brother a bit more as he got a better idea of Harry’s character. Clearly whatever the war had done to him, it hadn’t changed Harry’s opinions on what was right and what wasn’t. “Hermione… you’d tell me right? If you… if they…” His voice nearly broke and he schooled his features so whoever was watching them wouldn’t see his anguish. “You were alone with them…for more than an hour… I never asked…I thought it was the Cruciatus and the knife. I should have asked, made sure…and then we went from that to Gringotts with almost no rest…”

Hermione shook her head, “Say what you like about the Malfoys, in this, their hospitality was…exceptional. None of them took part. It was Bellatrix’s show. Lucius…I remember him trying to curb her before she threw a curse at him. Narcissa was absolute in her disgust of what her sister was doing, kept saying it was beneath them. Trying to shame her sister into leniency. Draco would suggest different questions... he and his mother would make Bellatrix argue…and if she was paying attention to them the spell would lapse. The whole time, whenever I saw his face, Draco looked as if he wanted to be sick. None of the Malfoys touched me and she hadn't worked herself up to that point yet.”

“What’s…Cruciatus?” Riddick pronounced the word carefully and in his arms, Hermione shuddered in memory.


	6. Chapter 6

The answer to Riddick's question didn't come from Harry or Hermione. “It’s the torture curse,” Neville Longbottom sat down next to Harry, taking a bowl of soup and a half sandwich for his dinner. He, like the rest of them, still had trouble eating to excess after being on short rations for most of a year. “Sorry to interrupt. But you might want to keep this conversation for a time you aren’t being targeted by a pissed off Ravenclaw.”

“I knew it was from that side of the room but I couldn’t pinpoint the table.” Harry shook his head as he offered Neville a cup of tea and was refused.

“Ginny’s latest amour,” Neville explained. “She’s flounced off and he’s convinced you’ve upset her ‘terribly so’ and he’s glaring. Anyone can see he's working up his nerve to attack. Not very subtle.”

“For all that they’re the house of intellect they’re hopeless when it comes to plotting anything besides an Arithmancy tangent.” Hermione shrugged. “Slytherin’s image has been villainized but they are better at flying under the radar with their plots.”

“What’s radar?” Neville asked with a frown.

“Umm…you’d say flying under the beaters.” Harry translated the Muggle phrase as best he could. “It’s a way of saying you’re going unnoticed.”

Neville still looked confused and Riddick lifted a shoulder, “You know how bats find insects?” When Neville nodded the Furyan continued, “Radar is a use of radio waves to do the same sort of thing. Picture a bat sitting on a windowsill, picking up pictures of bugs mentally but he can only do it at the level of the window. If you’re flying under the windowsill he can’t see you. That’s what flying under the radar means.”

Hermione smiled at him, “You could teach Muggle studies.”

“No, thanks. Only teaching I do is the practical sort, on why it’s a bad idea to mess with me and mine.” Riddick shook his head, “Lessons tend to be bloody.”

To his obvious surprise both she and Harry laughed, Neville chuckling quietly along with them. “You’ve never seen Harry teach Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts.” Neville told him with a half smile. “There’s a reason Hermione’s so good with healing and diagnostic charms. We can’t go a full hour without an injury.”

“Usually because one of the instructors gets hit with a spell from an over enthusiastic student.” Harry pretended to grumble.

“Because the instructor keeps teaching things that are dangerous,” Hermione shot back at him. “I keep telling you, defense before offense.”

“We’re not playing footie Mya, we’re fighting for our lives.” Harry retorted.

Riddick regarded them curiously, “Thought you said your war was over?”

Neville looked at his two friends and shrugged before he answered. “The leader of the opposing side is dead, along with a lot of his followers, but the attitude that allowed him his power… that’s still going strong.”

“The prejudice you were talking about.” Riddick stated quietly. “Guess they aren’t too happy with you?” He looked at Harry.

“Not with Hermione, Neville, Luna or anyone else who doesn’t pay attention to blood status. It doesn't even go by families. The Weasleys for example, their father doesn't care about blood, neither do most of the older brothers, but Ginny and Ron? Or their mother? Before Hermione they'd never talked to a Muggleborn and they don't have any other Muggleborn friends. Mrs. Weasley's made it real clear that the 'traditional or Pureblood ways' are the right ones.” Harry told him grimly. “So we train. And we keep up with politics.”

"Not that I've talked to many people lately but exactly what was the war for?" Riddick looked at the three of them. "I'm guessing it had something to do with blood purity and racism since that's what you were just talking about. But how did it start? How did it get ended?"

The next forty minutes were spent giving him a concise explanation of Tom Riddle/Lord Voldemort and the Pureblood agenda he had espoused along with the ineffectual reaction by the Ministry of Magic and the war that had resulted. Thankfully the three of them were fairly good at tag teaming their speech so everyone was able to eat as they talked. And at least one of them kept an eye on the Ravenclaw table.

Hermione was fairly pleased to see that Riddick didn't care for the idea that winning the war was put on a seventeen-year-old kid's shoulders. "So wizard people have prophecies? And one of them said that you were responsible for killing this Riddle guy. And nobody did anything?"

Harry shook his head, shrugging. "It's one of the vagaries of magical culture. No one here seems to question much. They've only got a couple sources of news both of which kowtow to the Ministry. This is the only school in Britain. Kids can go here, two schools on the continent or get home schooled. Nobody is taught critical thinking. Ever since I started school people go back and forth between me being a hero or a villain."

"They don't even understand non-magical culture or technology," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Most of them don't even know how a telephone works, much less a computer or a jet. They don't believe we've been to the moon. Half of them can't even pronounce electricity." She sighed, it was so hard to explain, the sheep-like behavior of the Wizarding population. It was the same attitude that had them believing she was either a saint or a whore. And it was why she had become more and more disillusioned about the magical world. Reason and logic couldn’t make a dent against a Victorian attitude and centuries of traditions. 

"So they're completely insular? What happens when someone normal sees magic?" Riddick tilted his head. "The folks in charge weren't thrilled when their magic didn't work on me."

"They probably tried to Obliviate you," Harry sighed. "That's the first reaction the Ministry has to anyone normal accidently seeing something magical. They call in the magical police, use spells to mess with the memory and slap whoever exposed magic with a fine or jail time. I don't want to think about how much damage Obliviates could do to a non-magical person's memory if the Ministry wasn't careful enough."

"Yeah, that's the spell they tried to use," Riddick growled quietly, his body vibrating with it against Hermione's. "Only consolation is they were apologetic. Your Professors Flitwick and McGonagall tried, saying they'd make sure they didn't hurt me. Could tell they didn't care for the whole thing. From the conversation I heard they didn't trust the Ministry idiots to be careful enough. Didn't take though. Guess that's why they never objected to me living around here."

Hermione nodded slowly. "The Ministry doesn't have much respect for non-magical folk. And if they found out certain magics won't work on you... Professors Flitwick and McGonagall would have wanted to keep the Ministry out of it as much as possible. For your sake and theirs."

She looked up at Riddick thoughtfully. "I guess they don't have stuff like this where you're from?"

His eyes still had a slight gleam of silver, the dark sheen of them reminding her of black pearls as he looked down at her. "No…nothing that I've seen. But I spent most of my life in slums, slams and very inhospitable planets. So what I've seen doesn't mean much." He tugged her closer and his lips rubbed over her temple. "Gotta admit, first time anyone's let me get this close and not been half afraid of me. ‘Course, usually I’m trying to scare the hell out of them. I'm not a nice guy."

Hermione couldn't help the laugh that shook her shoulders. "I'm not a very nice girl either." She slanted a glance towards Harry and grinned. "Nice doesn't really get the job done around here. I'm strong and I'd like to think I'm a good person. And I'm polite," A smirk from her brother in all but blood had her adding the wry addendum, "Usually. But nice gets you run over around here."

Neville chuckled as he looked at the two of them. "Hermione doesn't have a lot of use for wizarding folk unless we can use our brains. Problem is even if we use our brains she's smarter than we are."

"That's not it Neville." Hermione blushed slightly. "I grew up with no idea I was a witch. My idea of a great guy was someone who could talk to me and didn't act like my brain was a turnoff. And honestly..." Her blush deepened and she mumbled something she knew nobody at the table would really understand.

Riddick's hearing, as he'd warned her, caught and interpreted her mumbles and his laugh vibrated through her body with the way he was pressed against her. "So you like guys who are big, with brains and muscles. And most of your wizards don't exactly turn you on?"

Thankfully he'd kept his voice low and for her ears only or she'd have been beet red before he'd finished talking. He was amused but under it he sounded pleased and tugged her a little closer, not that there was room for much between them before. It was oddly safe, his hands weren't grabby or groping, just resting on her hip and stomach, the bulk of him pressed against her back and side as he straddled the bench. When she nodded his lips brushed over her ear and sent her entire body tingling. "So…this help my 'suit' at all?"

"It doesn't hurt," Hermione admitted. "I still don't know you very well yet, except I can tell you dislike anyone being treated like property. I know you’re extremely intelligent, more than you like to let on. You've learnt more about me than I have about you."

"So get to know me." Riddick suggested, smiling down at her. "Got nothin' but time."

"We've also got incoming," Neville warned and Hermione grinned. Hanging around with she and Harry had Neville picking up at least a few of their frequently used phrases.

"At least the feeling of being stared at will stop now." Hermione muttered irritably and grabbed a fruit tart off the dessert tray. The pastry was flaky and perfect around sliced apples and cinnamon and as she began to eat the tension began to drain out of her.

Harry stood as the Ravenclaw approached them and Riddick looked down at her curiously. "You're not worried at all are you?"

She shook her head and finished the little tart in another two bites, "Honestly, after facing Deatheaters and Voldemort schoolchildren really don't scare us. It's before the confrontation that Harry and I have problems. He's quite capable of defending himself and Neville and I can handle shielding any bystanders. We both just hate waiting."

She turned to look at Harry who was speaking to the Ravenclaw, a boy a year younger than Harry by the name of Marcus. Neville was dividing his attention between Harry and the students at the other tables and commented quietly. "This isn't going to last long. Marcus is smart with books and facts but he isn't magically powerful."

Hermione sighed in irritation, "Harry's trying to talk him out of a duel isn't he?" She turned slightly in Riddick's arms and felt him helping her move. "You're really enjoying this aren't you?" She asked her would be suitor, patting his arm so he'd know to what she was referring.

"Never had a woman let me just hold her like this, smell her scent and relax." Riddick's voice was a soft rumble, for her ears only. "Not like I'm a cuddly teddy bear or anything. Animal part of me...soothes something, holding you in public. Not like ownership...just that you'll let me."

"Like male birds do their dance and display their feathers?" Hermione tried to find a suitable comparison. "You're rubbing up against me and I'm letting you. It shows that we're...doing something like courting, in your culture?"

"Don't know much about my culture really." He admitted, "Most of my life I've been going with what feels right. Lotta trial and error."

"Well as long as you're not groping me in public I can live with it." Hermione would have continued but Marcus chose that moment to try and curse Harry. Her wand in her hand a moment later, she and Neville began casting shields to protect the students around the fighting duo.

She could feel Riddick, tense against her as curses, counters, charms and hexes flew in waves of air or flashes of light, some of them coming dangerously close to the spectators before Harry blasted Marcus with an overpowered stupefy that sent the boy flying backwards five feet and knocked him out.

It would have been over at that point but Ginny had her wand out and slashed it through the air, driving Neville against the table with a crunch of his cheekbone against the solid wood. Hermione was next, her back half to the redhead, a boils curse in a flash of ruddy orange coming towards the Muggleborn witch.

The feel of magic coming at her back had Hermione casting a Protego with the fear that it would be too late. Riddick's wide body twisted around hers and his shoulder blocked her view of the curse. A grunt of annoyance fell from his lips and Hermione flinched at the thought that he was hurt, her wand jabbing at Ginny Weasley in a wordless spell chain of Expelliarmus/Incarcerous before she revived Neville.

"Riddick, let me see it, please..." She tried to squirm out of his hold, his grip only relaxing when she asked it of him. Standing and moving to his back, her hand on his opposite shoulder she gently pulled the torn cloth of his shirt back from the hex's impact point. The area was reddened and appeared sensitive. "Does it hurt?"

He shrugged with his good shoulder, "I've had worse. It's not bleeding so I'll live."

Gently touching the area with her fingertips Hermione kept her eyes on his profile. "And now?"

"Just kinda stings some." He shrugged with his good shoulder again. "Don't worry about it. I heal fast. It's another Furyan thing."

When he made as if to stand Hermione snapped at him, "Oh no you don't. You stay right there Richard B. Riddick and let me fix this." A look over at Harry showed her friend levitating the rope bound Ginny over to lie on the floor next to her boyfriend where he could keep his wand on both of them.

"Miss Granger, you're unharmed?" McGonagall asked as she gently helped Neville hold a bag of conjured ice to his cheek. "Professor Flitwick has sent for Madam Pomfrey."

"I'm fine. Riddick put himself between me and Ginny's curse." Hermione silently Accioed her beaded bag and held her hand over the opening, summoning the burn salve into her hand. "I heard her cast a boils curse but Riddick has a large reddened area where it hit. Like a second degree burn." She began to carefully dab the salve onto his injury watching him carefully for any reaction. "Is that any better?"

"Doesn't feel as warm." He looked up at her, "You almost done fussing over me woman?"

"Think of it as my 'display' if that makes you feel better," She rolled her eyes at him before pulling a Muggle bandage out of her bag and smoothing it over the salve, sealing the edges against his skin.

"Yeah?" He looked up at her with a half smile and a wicked gleam in his eyes. "You accepting?"

"Conditionally," She nodded and was rewarded with a smile to match the gleam in his eyes. "How do I know you're not going to disappear on me as suddenly as you showed up here?"

Big hands tugged her closer and dark eyes stared into hers, "Life doesn't come with guarantees." 

She nodded her understanding but couldn't help the stiffening of her spine at the thought of him just up and vanishing one day, after she'd gotten attached to him. "You know that doesn't help right?"

"Yeah, figured," He looked more guarded now, as if her slight resistance heightened his. "Wouldn't be on purpose."

Hermione sighed and looked around the hall. "Let's talk about this somewhere else," She suggested finally and cast a Reparo on his shirt, mending the tear. The great hall would calm down eventually but until it did, there was too great a chance of being overheard.

"Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall's voice killed that plan for the moment. "Would you explain to me precisely what happened here?"

Hermione sighed tiredly and began to tell the Headmistress exactly what had happened. "It would have been over quickly but Ginny was still angry so she cast at Neville and me. We didn't do anything to her." She looked at the furious redhead and sighed, "Professor, I really wonder if that diary did more damage than Dumbledore wanted to admit, back in Ginny's first year."

The headmistress followed her gaze and nodded slowly. "I'll see about getting some mind healers here. At the very least she has more recent issues that need addressing." She regarded Hermione, Riddick's arms wrapped around her again and a brief smile softened her face. "If I'm not mistaken, Mr. Riddick might find the Room of Requirement very interesting. Perhaps you'd care to show it to him Miss Granger?"

Hermione nodded, "Just out of curiosity, has anyone ever looked into the Room of Hidden Things?"

The Headmistress shook her head, "No, I'm afraid that with the rebuilding and classes resuming we’ve all been quite busy. It's a fairly large project if there’s anything left of it after the Fiendfyre."

The Muggleborn looked at Riddick with a half smile, "It's up to you. But I can promise you've never seen anything like this room."

His answering grin was so wicked she felt warmed all over.


	7. Chapter 7

The corridor was empty, not that the room was much of a secret anymore, though Hermione expected that would change as the war time students graduated. "The secret is that we walk back and forth and think of the room we need." She explained quietly, walking back and forth with him three times. "In this case, somewhere we'll both feel comfortable, with privacy."

He was looking at her curiously but nodded his understanding and Hermione sighed in relief as a door appeared in the wall. Riddick blinked at it but otherwise appeared unsurprised and yet again she was struck with just how un-Muggle-like Riddick was. Either he was a master of Occlumency and the emotional control that came along with it, or he genuinely expected strange things to happen.

Once they entered the Room she looked around and nodded. It was a simple room, like a sitting room, with draperies flowing in a soft breeze from a window that showed a sky with stars and two moons. The furniture was all low and comfortable looking but not without its own simple elegance. It wasn’t a room she’d ever seen before, didn’t resemble her parent’s home or any other place she’d lived over the years. “The Room must have taken your wishes into account more than mine I guess.” She turned to smile at him and her expression froze at the look on his face.

She’d renewed the spell on his eyes before dinner so his goggles were on his forehead and he had stopped just inside the door, silver eyes darting from feature to feature, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Well sweetness, you were right. This is…different.”

Part of her was thrilled he was back to using endearments. The other was worried to death because the look on his face was not at all comforting. “You…I’m sorry… the Room…it uses magic to see what we need. You…you must have a very strong mind in order for it to know what you want, if you don’t have magic.”

Those dark silver eyes fastened onto her face and he nodded slowly. “Takes some…fortitude to keep from going insane in cryo.” Her expression must have been a confused because he elaborated. “Think of…that Sleeping Beauty spell you told me about. Only your mind is awake while the spell keeps your body mostly asleep. The newer drugs would give me dreams… open my mind up to other things.”

“Other things?” Hermione frowned worriedly. “Were you hurt?”

He smiled, wide and openly affectionate, “And you wonder why I call you sweetness.” He moved towards her and wrapped an arm around her waist. “I was fine. Things were a little odd afterwards but my memories…I learned some things.”

“Tell me?” Hermione giggled as he sat, pulling her down with him, half into his lap. “You know plenty about me. But you’ve only mentioned bits and pieces about your past. I’d like to hear about you. Not just your opinions on things here and now but how you got to be the way you are.”

He’d made a face of annoyed disgust and shook his head. “Not sure what’s so interesting that you wanna hear all that.”

“Riddick, you’re… you’ve been asking me to your bed, wanting a relationship with me, you had to know this was coming,” Hermione cupped his jaw in her hand. “I haven’t hidden anything from you. And your past is simply that. Past. I won’t dislike you because of it.”

He sighed and nodded and began to tell her the most fantastic story she’d ever heard. A life wandering between planets, imprisonment, sonar wielding monsters and men who believed they were holy half dead. And Riddick alone through all of it. The only people he’d befriended killed. Avenging their deaths hadn’t brought them back and the pain of that was obvious to her even if he tried to hide it. “It sounds as if Jack was as headstrong as you are.” She commented quietly.

“Yeah,” Riddick half smiled, though the gruffness of his voice and the sorrow it hid made her heart ache. “I was pretty pissed at her. I’d exiled myself for years, hid on a frozen rock, trying to keep mercs away from her. And she goes and joins up with ‘em trying to find me.” He shook his head, fists clenching, “She was never meant for that life. I never wanted her to end up a merc or a con. But all she could see was me leavin’.”

“She was young and foolish,” Hermione reminded him. “She wouldn’t have been able to see that you were trying to protect her. Only that you leaving. And it sounds as if the Imam was…restrictive. For someone who’d been on her own for so long, anyone trying to be a father figure would need to remember she needed freedom and understanding, not only rules and limitations.”

“She killed for me,” Riddick said softly. “She killed that merc bitch and in her mind I repaid that by abandoning her. New Mecca was bright and civilized and everything that I hated. She knew that. She thought I'd dumped her there and took off like she was baggage weighing me down.”

“How long would she have lived if you’d brought her with you,” Hermione decided that logic was the best way to go here. “You said she was a runaway, young, underweight and exhausted. How long could she have survived on the run with you? In the hostile environments an escaped convict hid?”

“If I kept her hidden? Maybe three years.” Riddick was thinking about it. “But the pedos and pimps would have seen her, no matter how hard I’d have tried to keep her out of sight. I’d have spent most of my time trying to find places to hide her, then working to keep us both fed. And she’d have hated being locked up, she’d have wanted to help. The boy disguise wouldn’t have fooled anyone for long, and even if it did, it wouldn’t have mattered to the sort of scum that would have tried to take her.”

“And from what you’ve described she’d seen enough violence. Enough blood and killing for a lifetime.” Hermione rubbed her hand over the back of his neck gently. “And anyplace where she could be free to be a kid…those were places you’d stick out like a sore thumb.”

“Even if I’d gotten a ship, somehow managed to get work, someone would have caught up with us, and she’d have ended up killing for me or dying for me. I might have been able to train her up, but when it came to a fight, mercs always had the numbers.” He shook his head. “Hell, if mercs caught us, she’d have ended up being slaved out while they locked me up.”

“I know how it feels, to have the lost life of someone you cared for on your shoulders,” Hermione told him softly. “But sometimes…sometimes no matter what you choose…” She hesitated, not sure how to say it.

“Some people just never really have a chance,” Riddick pulled her closer, turning and pressing his face into her hair, inhaling her scent roughly for a few minutes before he sighed. “She was dead the minute she set foot on that transport. All I did was buy her a few years.”

“It’s hard to accept, but in the end, she knew you loved her. You walked into hell for her and then did it again.” Hermione kissed his cheek. “Sometimes, that knowledge, that someone is willing to sacrifice themselves for you, that’s a greater gift than life.”

“Harry did that for you huh?” Riddick was very perceptive, sometimes too perceptive, and Hermione nodded.

“He had to let Voldemort kill him. To kill the last bit of the rotten bastard’s soul, Voldemort had to cast the killing curse on Harry. Harry had to go willingly.” Hermione made an inarticulate noise of fury in her throat as she thought about it again. “Like a sacrificial lamb. Dumbledore didn’t tell him anything to help him. Didn’t try to figure out another way. Just listened to that damn prophecy and decided what it meant. That Harry didn’t die was a miracle.”

“Yeah, don’t figure I’d much like that Dumbledore guy,” Riddick admitted. “Reminds me of Aereon, that damn elemental who made prophecies and got that Necro bastard believing my whole race had to die for him to live. I fuckin’ hate when someone treats me like a piece on their chessboard.”

“One more thing we have in common.” Hermione kissed his jaw. “What’d you do about the ‘damn elemental’?”

Riddick’s smirk was darkly amused. “Dumped her back on New Mecca with the rest of the survivors. I’d been in charge of the Necros and their fleet for about two weeks. I aimed the whole lot of them for the edge of known space. After hearing what they’d done to my people I didn’t want much to do with them. And I didn’t want to just destroy planet after planet.”

“Very few would.” Hermione patted his knee. “I know you said that Voldemort and the Death Eaters summoned you here, but what did you see when it happened?”

“I guess I was lucky I wasn’t asleep when it happened.” He shrugged, “I was in the main hall, big ugly place with these grotesque statues, talking with some of the commanders. And this red ball of light started to form in the air in front of me. Taking a step back didn’t work, it just followed me.”

“And when it became large enough to encompass you, you appeared here?” Hermione guessed.

“Pretty much. Wasn’t comfortable but I’ve felt worse.” Riddick shrugged again.

She frowned thoughtfully, considering everything he'd told her. "You said you'd been tortured too. Was that before you met Jack and the Imam?"

"Yeah..." He nodded. "When you get sentenced to life in Slamcity without a trial for trying to blow the whistle on corrupt murdering fuckers jail time comes with daily beatings. And other...niceties. I was big enough and mean enough that some of the cons didn’t try to mess with me, but there was always someone wanted to bring me down."

Hermione shook her head, "I'm glad you're not there anymore."

"Yeah, gotta agree with that." Riddick's dark voice was dry. "Just don't fit in here any better than I did back there. Always been the only one. Except Shirah."

The witch tried to ignore the spurt of jealousy that shot through her at the mention of another woman. Keeping her voice light and mildly curious was not easy but she thought she managed it. "Who's Shirah?"

From the amused sound of his voice she wasn't entirely successful. "She's some blonde Furyan woman I saw a few times in cryo and once when I thought I was awake. Woke up the Wrath in me." He pulled her into his lap and kissed her, his lips teasing and nibbling at her mouth until she was breathless and gasping. "Sweetness I don't even know if she's real. You're real. You're here."

"I'm not blonde." She muttered, suddenly feeling very unattractive. "Or curvy. Or tall."

"No," He was rubbing his mouth over her neck, nipping at her collarbone again. "You're not. Think I give a shit about any of that?" Riddick looked at her, "You're beautiful."

She shook her head, "Riddick most of my classmates think I'm this...genderless swot. No one thinks I'm pretty."

"So?" His hand tugged gently on her braid, tilting her head back. "They're idiots. Why do you care what they think?"

“It’s the only opinion I’ve heard for years. Harry’s like a brother and he has no clue anyway. And I can’t exactly trust the opinions of the few guys I dated over summers. Flings…don’t really count as far as an opinion goes. Because that mostly came down to sex.” Hermione sighed her annoyance with the whole thing.

“Does tend to cloud judgement,” Riddick’s chuckle was dark and amused in her ear. “I like how you look. Even when that spell fades and I lose colors in my sight, you’re still gorgeous. But how you feel is even better. Soft, silky hair.” His hand tugged on her braid and his lips moved over the skin of her neck. “Sweet skin, so smooth. You got a nice voice, doesn’t hurt my ears, sounds good when you say my name. Mouth made for kissing.” His teeth nipped at her throat. “Makes me wanna see it on my skin, sucking my cock.”

Her heart seemed to pound in her throat as his lips caressed her skin, a sudden throb of need when his words became more graphic. “Isn’t that just sex still?”

He laughed again, pulling her closer, until she was almost in his lap. “I’m a guy sweetness, so part of it yeah. But not all of it. I’m no kid to get lust and feelings confused. And I don’t ‘court’ anyone. Told you, nobody just ‘likes’ me. Even Jack, she was scared of me at first. Maybe ‘cause you got your own power. Dealt with a war, so you’re not scared of me. I like that. Makes me wanna keep you.”

“If…if you left…” Hermione looked at him. “If you committed to me and then you were taken…”

“I’d try like hell to get back to you.” Riddick’s eyes were like black pearls staring down at her. “I’m a possessive, selfish, bastard and once I say someone is mine they stay that way. Only way I wouldn’t come back would be if you’d be better off with me gone.”

She shook her head and glared up at him. “No. I don’t accept that self-sacrificing crap. God knows Harry tried to go off on his own to keep us safe more than once. Tried to push us away. I don’t care if you have mercs or feds or Necros coming down on you. I’m a witch, a damn powerful one, and I’m on your side.”

His kiss was hot and possessive, devouring her mouth, hands squeezing her ass and pulling her tight to his body. “All right,” Riddick breathed the words against her mouth. “All right sweetness, you got a deal. No splitting up.”


	8. Chapter 8

Hermione stretched luxuriously and sighed before getting out of bed. Riddick had kept company with her until it was nearly curfew for several weeks now. It had taken some time, but he’d started telling her a bit more about how he’d grown up. From the way he described it, foster care was no better in his world than it was in hers. Group homes, uncaring guardians, children who ran away rather than be forced into prostitution or worse.

“I learned the hard way,” He’d told her quietly. “That anyone I got close to would leave. No one ever stayed for long. Either they’d go or I’d get moved. Every now and then I’d end up in some home with a holy roller as a guardian. Spoutin’ crap about children of sin. They were worse than the drunks or the addicts. Never could stand a hypocrite. Claiming to know what God wants and thinks and using it as an excuse to torture kids who never asked to get born.”

“Do you believe in God?” She’d asked curiously and smiled. “No judgement if you do or don’t. The magical world doesn’t seem to have religion. Like if they have magic people don’t see a need for God. Magicals seem to regard Merlin as some sort of deity, at least enough to curse using his name, in the way that Muggles would say ‘God damn’. But Merlin was just a man, a wizard but still only a man. It’s one more way Muggleborn are different. A lot of us were raised in some form of religion.”

He’d looked at her thoughtfully, as if he wasn’t quite sure she was really telling him the truth. She could almost see his mental shrug and prepared retreat if she did judge him by what he was about to say. “I… someone else asked me that once. Abu, the Imam, actually assumed I didn’t believe. He thought he understood but he couldn’t possibly. I told him, you can't spend half your life in lock-down with a horse-bit in your mouth and not believe. You don’t start out in a trash bin behind a liquor store with an umbilical cord wrapped around your neck and not believe.”

She’d understood then, knew what he was trying to tell her and sighed, kissing him gently. “Well unlike the Imam, I do understand. You have to believe in God. It’s impossible to hate someone that you don’t believe in.”

He’d nodded, tension easing out of his shoulders when she kissed him. “Yeah. I pretty much figure my life is one running gag for the Almighty. And whenever I think something good’s happening, that’s when it gets taken away. Caroline, Jack, the Imam…everything I ever knew…either killed or destroyed. Like God just likes fucking with me.”

“That’s a big part of why you’re so… guarded.” Hermione had sighed and kissed him again. “One of these days I’ll figure out a way to make you believe that when I give my word I keep it.”

“Didn’t think you’d figured out a way around death.” He’d grumbled and she’d left it alone. At that point he’d only think further reassurances were borne out of pity. He hated any hint of that, his voice becoming an angry growl and further conversation next to impossible until he’d calmed.

Thinking back over the conversation she wondered again if there was a way she could reassure him. Something magical that if they did commit to a relationship would assure him of her constancy.

8888

It took her three solid nights of sneaking into the library and the restricted section before she found something that might work.

Yawning over breakfast the next morning had Riddick looking at her curiously. She had a finite amount of Pepper Up potion and she’d used her last dose the day before so her exhaustion was very obvious. Making more Pepper Up while in desperate need of it was not conducive to effective potion brewing. “Thought you didn’t have exams for another few months?”

She shook her head. “I don’t. I’ve been researching something. A special project.” His arm went around her waist while his other hand snagged the teapot from across the table. Resting her head against his shoulder would tempt her into sleep so she settled for snuggling close into his side.

“Though he was your special project,” Ron sneered from across the table. He’d been allowed back into Charms finally and his detentions were over but his attitude regarding Riddick hadn’t improved. Hermione thought uncharitably that Ron’s sneer was reminiscent of Malfoy at his most condescending.

Hermione smiled up at Riddick as he snarled over Ron’s tone. “You are much more than a special project Riddick.” She murmured, her hand on his thigh, patting him gently. “And it does have to do with you. I think you’ll like it.”

His smile was just a touch evil as he poured her some tea and fixed her a plate. “Yeah? You sure you know what I like sweetness?” He pushed the plate in front of her. Despite his rough exterior and dangerous demeanor Riddick seemed to concern himself with her meals and whether or not she ate them. Though he never said he worried about her. “Eat. Gotta keep up your strength if you want to keep up with me.” He resumed his own meal, eating with his now free hand and glaring at Ron every so often.

The witch drank her tea and welcomed the infusion of caffeine with a sigh before doing as he said. “I thought you were pleased with how I’ve been keeping up with you?” She grinned at him around a bite of toast and was rewarded with a low hungry growl.

“You keep teasing me sweetness and this courtship’s gonna come to fruition real damn quick.” He warned. “Then we’ll really see how well you keep up. I’ve got a real…appetite.”

“Oi,” Harry objected from her other side. “Not while I’m eating Rick. That’s my sister after all.”

Riddick’s chuckle was pure wickedness and Hermione giggled knowing he’d counted on Harry’s reaction. He loved teasing her brother. Neville groaned across the table and shook his head. “You two behave. Professor Flitwick has us working on wordless charms today and I need my strength.”

Hermione leaned against Riddick as she ate, grateful he’d decided to take his meals in the castle with her for the past several weeks. He attended her classes for at least half the week, the rest of his time spent in the forest. When she asked he’d simply shrugged and said he had work of his own. Now and then he’d go see Hagrid’s Magical Creatures lessons. He and the half giant had a lot in common, neither of them at all afraid of the more dangerous creatures. He’d come back from those with a smile of pure pleasure, talking with the half giant about dragons and chimera of all types. However, he never missed Arithmancy astounding Professor Vector with the ease in which he solved equations and broke down spells mathematically.

“So what is this project hmm?” Riddick murmured as he stroked one hand up and down her braid.

“I’ll show you tonight.” She smiled. “Like I said, I think you’ll like it.”

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They couldn’t always disappear into the Room of Requirement or someone would figure out where they were going. Hermione didn’t mind Harry knowing where she was but not everyone in their year group was her friend or ally. And, as she pointed out to Riddick, habits led towards traps. His agreement had been wholehearted and the kiss he’d given her conveyed his approval of her slightly paranoid thinking. She had an entire castle of unused rooms and enough skill at transfiguration to make comfortable furniture out of old desks and chairs.

“Come with me tonight,” He murmured in her ear as they finished dinner. “I’ll show you where I’ve been staying.”

“In the forest?” Hermione kept her voice low. “All right.” The slight twinge of conscience over the rule breaking was more habit than heartfelt. His pleased grin was enough to soothe that tiny twinge. And it was only fair, she told herself, Riddick was in the castle so often, where she was comfortable, she should make an effort to join him in what was his territory.

“Good.” His mouth nipped at the lobe of her ear. “And you can show me that project you’ve been working on.”

She nodded and when the rest of the Gryffindors were milling about after the meal, slipped out the castle doors. She’d automatically turned towards Hagrid’s hut and was surprised when Riddick’s arm around her waist tugged her towards the forest edge nearer to the Quidditch pitch. “Know you’re not allowed in the woods.” He told her quietly. “But I’m not based too deep. Ran into a few of those giant spiders, but once I cleared them out I got a nice cozy spot.”

“Acromantula? You killed some?” Hermione looked up at him in astonishment.

His smirk was teasing, “After what I dealt with on that planet, you really thought giant spiders were gonna give me trouble? They were ugly and damn did they smell when they got cut, but they were easy in comparison to those giant sonar using bugs.”

Hermione nodded as she conceded the point. “I suppose they would be. No tails and they don’t fly.”

“Exactly.” He guided her through the dim forest, along a trail barely more than a deer track. The clearing that opened up in front of them wasn’t even the size of the potions classroom. The trees surrounding it loomed overhead, their branches creating a canopy that ensured even at noon the area would be shaded.

Hermione squinted as Riddick led her across the clearing and towards a huge tree that had fallen sometime in the past. Its exposed roots created a pergola of sorts, with grasses and leaves used as thatch roofing, while part of the trunk above the roots was hollow, either by weather or animal predations. The tree had been so large that Riddick could stand beneath the roots without stooping. “You’ve been living out here…” She stared up at the few stars she could see through the canopy of the trees. “How have you been keeping warm?”

His eyes were glowing in the twilight of the shadows, fixed upon her face, and with the last of the light she could see the shocked expression on his face. “Nothing about living like an animal in a cave? Or how I’d better come back to the castle with you? Just ‘how’ve I been keeping warm’?”

Hermione put her hands on her hips and glared up at him. “It’s your life, if you’re comfortable and content here, who am I to judge? Hagrid lives in a hut so small his shadow and Fang make it seem crowded but he’s happy because it’s his. When we were on the run last year we lived in a tent.” She shook her head, “How are you keeping warm Riddick? We’ve had quite a bit of snow this winter. It's a wonder you haven't lost fingers or toes to frostbite.”

His hands circled her waist and pulled her close, mouth coming down on hers like a blaze, setting her nerves on fire. When her knees went weak he lowered her to the ground, pressing her back onto something soft and warm, his body covering hers. Her moan was swallowed up in his kiss as his hands slid under her robes to caress her breasts and cup her ass. Hermione gasped as his lips left hers and his mouth slid over her neck, finding her collarbone and sucking on it. “Ungh…Riddick…”

“Make such pretty sounds for me Mya,” His voice sent shudders over her skin. “You got any idea how bad I wanna be inside you sweetness?” His big hand nimbly opened her blouse and tugged her bra down, exposing her breasts to the cool air. “Fucking beautiful.”

She made a choked sound of surprise as his mouth closed around one nipple and suckled gently, then with increasing pressure, every movement of his lips sending a hot shock of pleasure tugging between her thighs. Her hands clutched at his head and shoulders, reason completely lost under his ministrations.

When his hand pushed her skirt up and her panties aside, she barely noticed until his thick fingers dipped between her nether lips and began to stroke her carefully. “Riddick!”

His mouth lifted from her breasts, his voice a hot rumble of words she barely understood, “You telling me to stop?” Her frantic shake of her head drew a pleased smile to his lips and he licked her puckered nipple. “Just a little worried ‘bout how fast this is going?” Her nod was reluctant but honest and he growled a bit. “Not gonna hurt you.”

Hermione finally got her breath back, if only for a moment. “I didn’t…didn’t think you’d hurt me Riddick. But this… Sex is… you know there’s no going back for me.” She was half-naked, his body hard and needing over hers, and all she wanted was to keep going. If only her brain wouldn’t insist on interfering.

“Made me happy earlier,” He nuzzled her neck, kissing the tender skin. “I’m gonna make you happy. Wanna hear you scream my name. Gonna taste you Mya.” He fixed his mouth to her breast again and those nimble fingers found her clit and surrounded it, tugging and rubbing until she was writhing under him.

Wicked man that he was, he waited until she was nearly mindless with the need for more, and then effortlessly knelt, draped her thighs over his shoulders and began to lick and devour every bit of moisture her body had created. His tongue slid inside her, mouth fixed to her sheath, sucking and kissing until she was moaning for him to finish her. 

As if that was all he’d been waiting for Riddick growled against her sensitive nether lips, “Taste so fuckin’ good Hermione.” He snaked a hand down to her breasts and tugged at her nipples, puckered and aching for his mouth again. “Wanna hear you Mya… ask me for it.”

“Please…” She moaned, unable to press up to his mouth, completely at his mercy. “Please Riddick. I need you to finish me. Make me come.”

“Yeah…I’ll take care of you sweetness.” He eased her down, covering her body with his again, kissing her and sucking on her breasts again before his fingers found her clit once more, teasing it gently. “So wet for me Mya.”

Hermione shuddered as his big hand cupped her mound, the pad of his thumb flat on her clit, rubbing infinitesimally, teasing her with heat that built and built. “Oh god…unghh… Please. Rick... Riddick please!”

“Beautiful,” He practically crooned the word against her mouth, sliding two of those thick, no right to be so nimble, fingers up into her, stretching and rubbing inside her body. “That’s my woman…” His thumb flicked her clit, a sharp hot spike of need that pushed her hips up to his hand, grinding onto his fingers. Hermione gasped against his lips, tasting him and the remains of herself on his mouth, crying out in pleasure as his thumb flicked at her again and his fingers slid deep inside her body, pushing perfectly within her.

“Ungh… oh… Riddick!” She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, could barely understand what was happening to her under his mouth and hands. Her world narrowed down to his mouth and hands and body pressed to hers in a way she’d never felt until her entire body tightened around his fingers one last time and burst. White hot, fire blazed through her as she came, thrashing against him in spasm after spasm, until she could only cling to him, aftershocks of pleasure sending shudders through her. “Riddick, Riddick….”

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It took her a few minutes of concentrated breathing to remember how to speak. Riddick was breathing in her scent, nuzzling her neck, his hips pressed to hers, making it clear just how much she’d aroused him. Kissing him was instinct. Telling him to roll onto his back appealed to the devil in her and his surprise was obvious.

“Really Riddick, you think I’m that…rude?” Hermione kissed him again before straddling his hips.

“Like to think not, but I know better than to assume anything.” He admitted, glowing eyes fixed to her body. Since her clothing was still in the disheveled state he’d left it there was a lot for him to look at. “Fuck me,” His mutter was most likely not meant for her ears.

She couldn’t help giggling as she slid down his body, undoing the front of his trousers and slipping her fingers inside. His cock was hard and ready, pushing at the fabric and practically sprang out when she released him. Kneeling between his thighs and bending down to lick at him got her a muffled curse. “I haven’t done this much, so maybe you could tell me what you like?” She licked at the head of his cock, wrapping her hand around the base of him and measuring his girth.

“Fuck, Mya that feels good.” He groaned. “Like my cock sucked hard, deep as you can take it sweetness. And your hands working what you can’t fit in your mouth.” His cock seemed to flex as she wrapped her mouth around the head and sucked, precum seeping out to flavor her tongue with bitter salt.

Her braid fell over her shoulder, hitting his hip and he wrapped it around his fist, his other hand clutching at the bedding beneath him as if he was worried about what he’d do with it. When she lifted her mouth off his flesh Riddick nearly growled in his need. “Fuck, don’t stop.”

Hermione smirked at him rubbing the tip over her lips, “You want to hold my hair? You want to be able to control what I’m doing to you.”

As if it pained him to admit it, he nodded. “Yeah. Don’t like when a woman pulls away before I finish.”

“I won’t.” She kissed his cock and licked at the long line of him. “I want to make you come good Riddick. Like you did me.” The witch wrapped her mouth around his cock again, sucking and sinking her lips down around him until she couldn’t take anymore of him. He uttered a long low groan as she began to suck hard, pulling her mouth up and down.

Keeping her hand wrapped around the base of his cock helped her keep a rhythm going which he liked if the way his cock kept hardening was any indication. Hermione could feel her teeth pressing to the back of her lips as his cock grew harder and her mouth dragged up and down his shaft. Riddick surprised her by being vocal in his appreciation. “Fuck yes, sweetness…suck it…fuck yeah, just like that… Unghh…look so pretty… so fuckin’ good Mya… wanna fuck your face…see you swallow my cock.”

Through all of it his eyes never closed, glowing silver fixed upon her face, even towards the end, his words devolving into low growls and grunts of pleasure, hips twitching, trying to push up into her mouth. Hermione hollowed her cheeks as she sucked on the way down him, hearing him pant as if he was running a marathon and his groan of warning. “Fuck, Mya! Oh fuck…sweetness…I’m…” The weight of her hand on his hip was nothing as his orgasm took away the little control he had left, hips pumping upwards, his hand on her braid holding her head in place, cock pushing deep into her mouth as he came, filling her mouth over and over as she tried to swallow his seed.

Breathless and spent Riddick’s hand eased and Hermione was free to move again, gently letting his cock ease from her mouth and resting her cheek on his hip for a moment. His voice, when he spoke after several long loaded minutes, was low and worried. “I hurt you sweetness?”

She blinked and looked up at him, propping her chin on his hip, “Why would you think that?”

“Practically pushed into your throat.” He wasn’t quite looking at her, and for a moment she couldn’t think of why, until it occurred to her that he was worried and maybe ashamed that he might have done something she didn’t want.

Actions spoke louder than words. Hermione climbed up his body and kissed his cheek. “You didn’t hurt me. I like that you lost control a little bit. You certainly did that for me. And if you couldn’t stop yourself…well that means that it was good?”

Riddick looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “You have to ask? Damn near took the top of my head off woman. You made me feel any better I’d have put you on your back and fucked you until you couldn’t walk for a week.”

“I told you I hadn’t done that much.” She reminded him, a pleased smile hovering over her lips.

“Yeah, it was good. It was fuckin’ great.” He began to carefully put her clothing back in place. “Not that I don’t love looking at you. But you stay like this and you will end up on your back.” He pulled her skirt down and her robes back around her body.

Hermione smiled and kissed him delicately. “You never answered me. How are you staying warm?”

“A fire sometimes, doesn’t bother my eyes since you fixed ‘em with that spell. Plenty of furs. Centaurs gave me some stuff as payment for getting rid of the rest of the spiders. And Hagrid and I have a barter system going. Stuff I find he trades me for food or tools that I can’t make.” Riddick shrugged. “Plus, I’ve survived worse. Ice planet was a lot colder than this.”

“Hmmm…” Hermione nodded. “It’s yours though. That’s what’s important to you isn’t it? It’s your territory.”

“Yeah… that’s a big part of it. I’m not beholden to anyone. It’s mine.” Riddick nodded. “Wish I’d shown you before.”

“Why didn’t you?” She laid her head on his shoulder.

“Guess I didn’t want you to think I was…some ignorant animal, living in the woods.” He muttered the words so she could barely hear them. When she sat up and looked at him expectantly he sighed. “Woman that look…you’re worse that Jack and Abu put together…” He shook his head, “I’m, well I’m courting you, so I didn’t want where I was living to mess that up.”

She sighed, “You know, I still don’t understand why my opinion matters so much to you. I mean… you know I like you and you know why…I guess I don’t quite get why you’d want to be with me.”

Now it was his turn to look at her like she’d lost her mind. “Are you fucking with me? Hermione, you’re beautiful, and smart. And your sense of humor goes along with mine pretty well. But… you just see me. You see a man. Not the Furyan or the con or the murderer. You don’t look at me like you expect me to let you down. You act like you know I can do better. Like you…like you think I’m better.”

“You are.” She cupped his jaw in her palm. “You’re brilliant Riddick. You can do anything.”

“You’re the first one that’s thought so.” He told her quietly. “That’s why I want you.”

Hermione kissed him again, gently and let him cuddle her close. "And the way you treat me and look at me is why I let you." His hand stroked her spine and hip, warm and heavy on her body and comforting in a way she'd never known.

They stayed that way for a little while, Riddick pulling another fur from behind him and covering her with it when she tried to burrow closer. "So what's this project you've exhausted yourself researching?" He asked as he tucked the covering around her body.

She smiled up at him. "You said you've resisted getting too attached to me, to anyone but lately to me, because everyone dies. You're always left alone."

"Yeah, God's way of fucking with me," He agreed. "And you're worried about getting in too deep with me and then I up and disappear and you're alone. Same sort of problem."

"Exactly." Hermione looked up at him, "What if there was a way to bind ourselves together? So that if you lived, I wouldn't die, and if you disappeared, I'd just disappear along with you?"

"Sounds...too good to be true," Riddick said slowly. "Not that I don't like the idea. Way people come after me, be good to know that if I survived you would too."

"Well I didn't say there wasn't a price," The witch sighed. "We'd be bound together. It would be a binding even more profound than a magical marriage. We would literally be bound together body and soul."

"Did you say that the big bad Harry destroyed was messing with soul magic?" Riddick was a bit wary, and rightfully so. He was too smart to not ask questions no matter how good something sounded.

"Voldemort, yes. But he was tearing his own soul to pieces by committing murder for the sole, if you'll forgive the pun, purpose of achieving immortality." Hermione explained. "The ritual I found is more of an exchange. We're not tearing our selves asunder, so much as giving each other part of our self. It's the intent that shapes the ritual."

"Sounds like it takes two magical people to do this though," Riddick was listening at least, and poking holes in the whole thing but playing devil's advocate was something she'd learnt he excelled at.

"Nothing I read said that magical ability was a requirement." The witch said thoughtfully. "I can look into it some more though. I don't want you hurt."

"And I don't want to end up sucking all the magic out of you if this doesn't work like it's supposed to because I'm not a wizard." He tugged on her braid gently.

"I don't think that would happen. But I'll research some more and try to find out, just to set your mind at ease." She smiled and kissed him affectionately before casting a tempus spell to tell the time. "I'd better get back. There aren't any rules about being outside before curfew, but the forest is still forbidden so I need to at least be on my way back."

"I'll walk you," Riddick shrugged on a coat that reminded Hermione of Australian cowboys. All the pictures she'd seen showed long shearling wool coats with wide collars, wool showing at the edges of the seams. He grinned at her as she watched him putting it on. "Like it? Traded Hagrid for the sheepskins so I could make it."

Hermione nodded admiringly. "It looks very warm, and it fits you well."

"Don't see too many of your people in this type of clothes." He wrapped an arm around her and began walking her back to Hogwarts. "Some of the boots are made of that odd skin but no coats."

"Wizards seem to shun anything as mundane as leather or sheepskin," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Everything is dragonhide or something of that sort." She shrugged, "Some hides resist spell damage, so that's a factor, but for everyday wear...I don't understand it either."

Riddick's interest in dragonhide was piqued and she was caught up in explaining the differences in dragon species and what they were known for when the attack came. Her shielding, while exemplary, couldn't hold up to three different concerted attacks and when it finally failed, the curse that flew through the air with a dangerous neon yellow gleam hit her full in the chest. 

Hermione felt her knees give out for the second time that evening as she struggled to breathe. She felt and heard Riddick's roar of fury, waves of ghost blue cascading around them both before darkness overcame her.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehe... Every now and then I like a little cliffhanger.


	9. Chapter 9

She woke, fighting for breath, and the oxygen filling her lungs was a blessing she didn't expect. The pain that followed was expected, with each movement of her lungs, making her dizzy with it. Forcing her eyes open she saw Riddick's broad back, his spine stiff with rage as he spoke in low threatening tones to Madam Pomfrey. "I don't know what they used, it was an ugly bright yellow and when it hit her she couldn't breathe. I lost my fuckin' mind when she started to pass out."

"Mr. Riddick, if you'll allow me to wake one of them I might be able to find out what curse it was they inflicted upon Miss Granger," Pomfrey sounded irritated as she pushed past the large man to another bed. “What did you do to them?” Hermione watched, struggling for air through the pain, as the healer attempted to diagnose one of her attackers.

“Unleashed Wrath,” Riddick sounded supremely unconcerned. “It’s a Furyan thing. Doesn’t always leave who it hits alive.” He moved towards Hermione’s bed, his hard expression softening as he saw her eyes open. “Hey,” He crouched near her cot and his hand rested on her head, thumb rubbing over her cheekbone. “Don’t know what spell hit you yet.”

The witch forced herself to breathe deeply enough through that pain in order to speak. “Curse…” Breathing was like knives in her lungs. “Pulmo nar Febrosci.” The effort of pronouncing the incantation correctly nearly exhausted her.

The hand stroking her hair and cheek never changed from its gentle ministrations but Riddick’s voice was a hard snarl of rage as he looked at the healer. “You get that?”

Madam Pomfrey sighed and hurried over to Hermione’s side, her wand moving rapidly, a frown of concentration her face. “That is a nasty one.” She shook her head and as the cursed witch watched, moved to her fireplace and called for a specialist. When she returned her explanation was as much for Riddick as for Hermione. “Anything I do beyond the actions I’ve already taken could make her worse. She needs a specialist, a combination of curse-breaker and healer.”

“And there’s nobody who can come?” Riddick’s voice was low and dangerous, his glare towards the three attackers in the other beds an eloquent threat. “If she dies, they die.”

Hermione fumbled for his other hand, grasping it tightly and drawing his silver gaze. “No… please. Not… not by…by your hand.” How could she explain it, his hands were clean of blood in her world. “Prison…worse… no magic… punished… longer.”

Riddick’s slow smile was grimly satisfied. “You want them to suffer. Death’d be too quick?” She nodded, exhausted and his hand tightened around hers. “All right sweetness. I’ll make ‘em bleed but I won’t kill ‘em.”

She did her best to smile at him, “Should…ask…ask for…Harry.”

“Will he be able to help you?” His expression was set in hard lines, nearly unreadable. And his entire body was stiff with rage, no matter how gentle his hands were when they touched her. More than ever she could appreciate the control he exerted over his physical reactions. Beneath his shirt, a faint blue glow pulsed over his heart and she tried to lift her hand to touch it.

“Help…us.” Hermione corrected him and let her eyes close for a moment, speech stressing her lungs in a way she would never have thought. Was this how asthmatics felt, trying to breathe when their airways closed?

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The moment lasted an indeterminate amount of time. Sadly, when she was able to force her eyes open again she still couldn’t breathe without pain. Riddick was at her side, Harry opposite him and the two of them were conversing quietly across her prone body.

“So that light that’s pulsing, it exploded out of your chest and that knocked those three out?” Harry was asking in the manner of someone who was trying to clarify events he didn’t understand. “Why didn’t it hurt Hermione?”

“Don’t know,” Riddick’s thumb was rubbing circles on the back of her hand. “Wrath knocked out at least a dozen Necros and drained me dry last time it exploded like that. Last time was also the first time.”

“Whatever it is, it’s scrambled their magical core to Merlin knows what,” Pomfrey sounded exasperated. “I’ll be surprised if they can cast any spell for a week at least.”

“Good.” Harry’s voice was tightly furious. “Serves them right for what they’ve done to Mya.”

“Yes, well it’s times like this that I miss Severus,” Madam Pomfrey sighed. “The man might have been a sourpuss but he did know his counters to dark magic.”

“So?” Riddick’s snarl was the epitome of surliness. “Can’t be the only dark magic expert around. Find someone else.”

“’S’all…right.” Hermione managed to get breath enough to speak. “We’ll…figure…it…out.” She looked at Harry for a moment, “Malfoy? Or…Andro…meda? Malfoy…owes…”

Her brother looked astonished for a moment but half a second later his wand was out and his Patronus sprang forth. “Go to Draco Malfoy and Andromeda Tonks. Tell them we need the counter for this curse.” He repeated the words Riddick recited back to him and the stag raced off through the walls.

“That’s a messenger?” Riddick asked, his eyes lingering on the wall where the stag had vanished.

“Also a protection against a couple of nasty dark creatures.” Harry nodded. “Malfoy owes me his life. And then some. Andromeda has access to the Black family library and she was also raised learning dark magic like Malfoy.”

Riddick nodded his understanding and his gaze fastened back onto Hermione’s face. “Guess there’s a reason they call you the brightest witch of her age.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Not…not going…to…leave you.” She pushed the words past her lips. “Won’t…leave…you alone.”

“Shh…” He bent close to her, brushed his lips over her forehead. “I’m not gonna let you leave me Mya. My woman. Not letting you go. Trust me.”

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Vivid dreams had plagued her ever since she’d had outbursts of accidental magic. The only time she hadn’t had them was when she’d been given Dreamless Sleep after the Ministry of Magic debacle. Her mother had suggested that since her mind was so active when she was awake that it was even more so while she slept, trying to make sense of her life and work out the many problems that seemed to beset her.

Normally though her dreams, while vivid and strange, were set in places she at least recognized. But now she was wandering across a field towards smoking mountains she’d never seen. Bones littered the ground, burnt and turning to dust.

“Welcome, Queen of Magi, Sorceress of the Lost,” The voice seemed to come from the mountains, the ground, the very air around her and Hermione looked around in surprise.

“Few have walked here…fewer still who were not born to this world.” An apparition, taking the form of a human woman approached the witch with a slow swaying step that was more evocative of a predator cat than a woman. “Have you Chosen then? To renew this world?”

“I don’t know where I am,” Hermione looked at the sky and saw even with the sun overhead, two moons hung low in the sky, almost entwined, crescent to crescent.

“As only a male of this world could avenge it, only a woman can give it life again.” The spirit came closer, her appearance reminding the witch of drawings she’d seen of American Natives. The tribesmen with feathers and beads twined into their hair and fringed animal skins making up their clothing, decorated with porcupine quills.

“How could one person bring life to an entire world?” She looked around and realized with a sickening thud in her belly, that she was standing in a mass grave. “How could anyone…heal this?”

“Only the Brightest and Best of her Age, the Sorceress. The Chosen. The One Who Sees. The Fey Lady.” Blue light glowed around the apparition’s hands as she drew even closer to Hermione. “And He who will father our race anew.” 

Hermione stared at the woman who was now only a step or two away and found she couldn’t move. “What…who are you?”

“I am All and None. The Voice in the Night. The Awakener.” Hands shining with light rested over Hermione’s heart and belly. “I woke Him. The Last of our race. Woke him to Sight. For he had been blind too long. And now I wake you to your true purpose. Wake Hermione, Sorceress.”

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The pain woke her, knives through her chest, and she bit her lip trying not to scream. “Hold her down!” The shout came from above her as her body jerked and arched with the pain. Riddick’s strong arms banded over hips and below her collarbone, his forehead pressed to hers.

“Draco! Andy! Now!” The same voice called out commands and Hermione nearly screamed as the pain intensified until she would have thought her lungs were on fire. Four voices chanting above her, the words and cadence grimly determined, and the incantation seemed to send the air around her throbbing until the air in her lungs matched it. Her stomach lurched queasily as her ears popped, pressure building and she closed her eyes against it.

Riddick’s voice was the only constant, a low reassuring murmur of her name, anchoring her as she felt the storm break over her. Agony, turning her lungs inside out, setting her skin ablaze and she screamed.

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Warmth. Something soft brushing over her forehead. A low rumble and she was gently eased into a different position. Sharp, hot, and then a sensation of honey dripping into her ears…and the vague sounds became clear.

Her eyes were sticky and she instinctively tried to bring her hands up to rub at them, only to find she couldn’t. She tried to speak and found her throat was raw and aching. Cool liquid, dripped onto her lips and slowly down her throat and the ache eased. A damp cloth stroked carefully over her face and eyes and she was able to open them.

“Easy sweetness,” Riddick’s low voice reassured her. “Easy. Just got you wrapped up so you didn’t hurt yourself. Lady said she couldn’t fix your ears or throat ‘til you woke up.”

“Indeed I did.” Madam Pomfrey made shooing motion at Riddick. “And now she’s awake you get yourself untangled and let me do a proper diagnostic.”

The big man sighed and carefully did as he was bade, sliding his body out from under and around hers until she was lying flat on the cot. "Happy?" He growled half heartedly at the healer. 

"Ecstatic," She retorted dryly and began to wave her wand over Hermione in the complicated pattern the injured witch recognized as the diagnostic charm. "And let's see... Hmmm...your lungs don't show any residual scarring. Obviously your eardrums are healing and your throat is a bit sore but that will pass as well."

"So it worked, she's gonna be all right?" Riddick was practically vibrating with his eagerness to hear an affirmative answer.

Madam Pomfrey, having apparently decided Riddick was not an adequate medical proxy, addressed her remarks to Hermione. “I want you on bedrest for the next couple days. No classes, no high stress activities. The nature of that curse sometimes has an effect on its victims even after it’s been dispelled. You may experience episodes of difficulty breathing, the Muggles call it asthma, it’s a-“

Hermione smiled, “I know what asthma is Ma’am, I’m Muggleborn remember? So rest and report any symptoms of difficulty breathing. But there’s nothing physically wrong, any problems with my lungs would be purely psychosomatic?”

“Psycho what?” The matron frowned at the unfamiliar term.

“Means physical symptoms manifested as a result of mental trauma,” Riddick said flatly. “Like thinking you can’t breathe when there’s nothing wrong with your lungs. Because you remember not breathing and part of your mind thinks it’s gonna happen again under certain circumstances.” He looked at Hermione. “Best way to deal with that is after your bed rest, we do something designed to trigger it. Push your brain into realizing there’s nothing wrong.”

Hermione smiled at him, ignoring the matron’s irritation at being dismissed, “Get back on the horse, hmm?”

“Exactly.” He brushed a kiss over her lips. “Got just the thing.”

“Be that as it may, you’re on strict bedrest for the next two days.” Madam Pomfrey informed her in a crisp tone. “Now I’ll see about getting you some lunch, and the house elves will inform your friends that you’re awake.”

“What about the people who attacked us?” Hermione looked over at the beds where the three students had been in her last clear memory.

“They’ve been turned over to the Aurors.” She was informed. “I’m told that once you’re fully recovered you will be interviewed regarding the attack.”

“Who was it?” Hermione murmured. “I didn’t even see them clearly in the dark.”

“Isobel MacDougal, James Flint, and Sullivan Fawley,” Riddick answered when Pomfrey didn’t. “Got their names when the guardians showed up.” He smirked in satisfaction, “And they won’t be screwing with you anymore sweetness. Wrath fucked up their magic. They’ve got it, just can’t use it.”

“There’s no need to sound quite so satisfied with their suffering,” Madam Pomfrey reprimanded him stiffly. “Unless their magical cores stabilize their punishment will last their lifetimes.”

“They meant to kill my woman.” Riddick growled at her. “They’re lucky they got their lives.”

“Well, be that as it may, they’re paying for what they’ve done, and even after whatever happens to them lawfully they’ll be punished still.” Pomfrey sniffed and turned away, retreating to her office.

Hermione sighed, “She’s a healer. It must gall her that she can’t do anything to heal the damage you did to them. I think to her it means failure. And she lost so many patients during the war.”

“She’s been nothing but a bitch to me since I carried you in here.” Riddick glared at the closed office door. “First asking what the hell I did to you. Then what’d I do to them. Tried to throw me out of here more times than I can count.” He took a deep breath and she could see him visibly control his anger and irritation over the nurse and the situation before he spoke again. “So bedrest…”

“She means no classrooms, no course work, nothing to strain my magic or my body.” Hermione huffed in frustration at the anticipated boredom. “I’m going to get behind in my classes. And my studying for NEWTS.”

“Relax sweetness, I’ll help you study. And your friends too I bet.” One big hand cupped her face, gentleness in direct contrast to his size and ferocity. “Besides, according to Harry, you’re about four months ahead in all your classes. You’ve got some leeway.”

“Harry doesn’t realize how hard I have to work to stay ahead.” She grumbled and leaned into his touch, sighing at the feel of his palm against her cheek. “Although right now, bedrest with you sounds like a good thing.”

His evil chuckle was like music to her ears. “Don’t think that’s the sort of bedrest she had in mind.” Hermione made an irritated noise in her throat and Riddick’s mouth dropped onto hers in a brief hot kiss. “Only for a couple of days. And I’ll keep you company as much as I’m allowed.”

8888

By the time Madam Pomfrey reluctantly allowed her to leave the infirmary Hermione was ready to climb the walls. It hadn’t helped that Riddick was banished for fully half of each day, the nurse’s misguided attempts to ensure her patient rested ‘properly’. By Saturday morning the Muggleborn witch was itching for her wand and some therapeutic target practice.

“Hermione!” Harry’s face bore a beaming smile as she escaped the infirmary. “Finally!” 

He caught her up in a hug, squeezing her tightly, right up until Neville tapped his shoulder and demanded his turn. The quiet Pureblood hugged her just as tightly and passed her along to Luna Lovegood who pronounced her ‘nargle free’ before giving a far gentler hug.

To Hermione’s surprise the fourth individual waiting to greet her was Morag MacDougal. “I’m so sorry…” The Pureblood witch burst out. “If I’d known what she was going to do I’d have stopped her. I would have warned you.”

Hermione shook her head at the slender dark haired witch. “It’s not your fault Morag. You’re not responsible for her actions. She made her choices and now she’s paying for them.” She summoned up a smile for the grey eyed girl. “Now if you’d been behind it I expect I’d be buried in a hidden grave. You’re far too intelligent for a frontal attack!”

The Ravenclaw smiled shakily and nodded. “My parents are furious, with her and with your boyfriend for whatever it was that scrambled her magic. Madam Pomfrey told them that she was lucky she wasn’t killed.”

Hermione recalled Riddick’s barely restrained fury throughout her stay in the infirmary, “You have no idea how lucky. Riddick usually ends attacks with blades. And he doesn’t take prisoners.” Morag paled and only Neville gently wrapping his arm around her waist and tucking her into his side seemed to restore her equilibrium.

Hermione regarded the two of them with a grin, “So you finally got up the nerve to ask her Neville? Good for you.”

Her quiet friend shrugged and gave her a little smile, “I might not be in Ravenclaw but I’m not stupid. I’m just glad she said yes. We haven’t had much time to talk in the last few weeks or I would have told you sooner.”

The witch blinked and realized that in her effort to get to know Riddick she’d been neglecting her friends. “Oh…I’m so sorry Neville, and Harry,” She looked at her best friend. “I’ve been completely ignoring you two haven’t I? I’ve been so caught up in—“

Harry chuckled, “Falling love?” His smile spread to a grin at the blush heating her cheeks. “Hey, nobody blames you Mya. It’s not as if you meet someone like Rick every day.”

“And anyone can see he’s taken with you.” Neville added. “Just…maybe we could all hang out with you two? The Room of Requirement could handle all of us. And he’s an interesting guy. It’d be good to talk with him without the audience we get at meals.”

“Easier to relax too.” Harry added.

Luna laughed, “And the Room could help him show us the things he’s talked about. I’d love to see a space ship up close.”

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. “I’ve already seen that the Room will take Riddick’s desires into account. I’ll run it past him and see if he’ll agree to hang outs a couple nights a week at least.”

“What’re you running past me?” Riddick’s tall figure should have made it difficult if not nearly impossible for him to sneak up on the group of witches and wizards but his sudden appearance made all five of them jump.

“Merlin’s holey undershorts!” Harry cursed as he whirled, wand shooting into his hand before he pulled himself up short. Hermione took a deep breath and shook her head at Riddick in admonishment as he grinned at her.

“No panic attacks, no asthma attack? Even with me startling you.” He remarked in satisfaction and wrapped an arm around her waist, unconcerned with the wands pointing at him.

“You’ve got a hell of a way of proving a theory,” Hermione grumbled but subsided after the adrenaline of the moment had faded. “But you’re right.”

“Yeah, I figured you wouldn’t have much of an issue.” Riddick’s hand wrapped around her braid possessively. “You’ve got a strong mind. Not that you won’t have nightmares, but that’s a different story.” He looked at the rest of the group. “Question stands though. What’s the thing you want to run past me?”


	10. Chapter 10

It was a little odd, Hermione thought as she considered her situation. Before the attack Riddick had been subtly laying claim to her. He’d spent most meals pressed to her side, his hands touching in publically appropriate ways, guaranteeing that everyone would eventually see that they were together. But he’d been, for someone who claimed to be uncivilized at best and animalistic at worst, scrupulously courteous in his behavior. He’d never pushed her further than her comfort zone, never fondled or groped her in a way she’d find embarrassing, in public anyway. Even his kisses were mild enough that the first years could see them and not be traumatized by ‘old people affections’.

Things had changed since that night though. She couldn’t be sure if it was the intimacy they’d shared, the increased trust between them, or the attack that had nearly killed her. Riddick was positively territorial about her personal space. Harry and her other friends were welcome but anyone with whom her acquaintance was barely passing… It was as if he couldn’t abide anyone touching her but people he knew were safe.

He’d actually enlisted Harry and Neville to go with her nearly everywhere if he couldn’t escort her personally. Luna and Morag had tried to run interference but since they weren’t in all of the same classes it wasn’t easy. And he couldn't so anything about the Aurors.

The interview with the Aurors had been fascinating, in a twisted sort of way. They'd been more concerned with how her three attackers had their magical cores scrambled than with her account of the attack. The attackers all being Purebloods might have had something to do with that. After all, most of the Ministry workers were Pureblood or Half blood, albeit raised magically. Even if they weren't bigoted they were still stuck in the same mentality of 'magic is better'. 

Since her attackers hadn't any clue that Riddick had some power of his own they hadn't even asked to interview him, contenting themselves with speaking to Madam Pomfrey. Hermione couldn't be certain what the school nurse had told them but whatever it was they didn't seem to think Riddick could possibly have caused it. Hermione found herself in complete agreement with Riddick regarding her attackers. They had gotten what they deserved. 

"You realize Miss Granger that since they attacked you that their families might very well blame you for the loss of their magic," One of the Aurors, pointed out. "Legally you could be prosecuted for attempting to end a magical line."

"Really?" Hermione rolled her eyes, "None of them are only children, all of them have parents living, and you've examined my wand. Nothing I did could have caused what happened to their magical core. And Madam Pomfrey has said they still have magic. Magic that can still be passed on to their children. They're just unable to use it. So their magical lines aren't ended by anything I did." She stared at him coldly, "Since the last time they used it was to try and end my life I can't drum up much sympathy for them."

"Considering you're Muggleborn you might find it hard to fight the charges if the families choose to bring them against you," The other Auror had almost sneered the words.

"I find it interesting that my birth would make a difference in my ability to defend myself," the witch sneered back at him. "But since I count Harry Potter as my best friend, Neville Longbottom as a brother and half the Wizarding population owes me a life debt for my help in destroying Voldemort I think I'll just take my chances." She stood, "If I were you I'd consider the fact that Hogwarts was the site of a major battle and that the Headmistress has warned all her students that there is a great deal of residual magic, dark, grey and light, that has yet to dissipate or be filtered through the Ley Lines. The curses that were used to attack me, combined with my shield and the magic of Hogwarts, plus the magic from that battle... could very well have combined to turn upon my attackers."

The first Auror had nodded, making a note of her statement, "It is the most likely explanation." He reminded his partner. "And Miss Granger has cooperated fully, allowing her wand to be examined, and stating under magical oath that she used no other wand during the fight." He looked at her thoughtfully, "You might want to be a little more careful where and when you walk Miss Granger. The three students have been expelled and since you are pursuing this, they will be charged with attempted murder. And Muggle baiting since your companion is not a wizard. That's at least a twenty year sentence in Azkaban. It's the families you'll have to worry about. We can't do anything about that legally."

The Muggleborn witch had nodded her understanding and the interview had drawn to a close. She'd watched as Headmistress McGonagall had escorted them off Hogwarts grounds and been grateful no one had asked any questions about Riddick. McGonagall had winked at her when she returned and Hermione suddenly understood why they'd been so unconcerned with him. McGonagall might not have been Dumbledore but she was a very powerful witch. And quite capable of magically influencing a couple of Aurors so that they'd ignore a man who could see Hogwarts but was supposedly a Muggle.

Hermione regarded Riddick as they entered the Room of Requirement. He collapsed onto the provided couch with a sigh of relief and closed his eyes for a long moment, only opening them when she didn’t join him immediately. “Sweetness? You all right?” When she took a seat on the couch but didn’t settle against his side his expression went from slightly concerned to worried. “Hermione?”

“Riddick,” She took his hand and held it both of hers. “I wonder if I should be asking you that question. You’ve barely let me out of your sight since the attack and you won’t let anyone near me.” Raising his hand to rub her lips over his knuckles gave her a moment to consider her words, “Will you tell me what’s wrong?”

His hand pulled away from her to grasp her waist, pulling her into his lap. “Don’t know if you can understand.” His voice was low, painfully controlled as he held her. “That… that night, it was like you were giving me everything I’d ever wanted. You offered that ritual, trusted me to touch you…” His lips moved over her neck, tasting her skin as he inhaled her scent. “First time in years, felt like I could have a future, a life with my woman. Someone who didn’t see the monster or the animal or the murderer first. A woman who respected me but hasn’t ever feared me.”

“And then it was nearly taken away.” She stroked his skull with her fingertips, pressing her lips to his temple. “So you’ve been what? Overcompensating for that?”

His sigh set her heart aching. “Just trying to make sure nothing else happens to you Mya. You’re my woman. I just…I don’t know what would happen if I lost you. This isn’t my world. You’re all that holds me to it.”

Kissing Riddick was like drinking in a thunderstorm, sweet rain, thundering blood and passion like lighting in her veins as his mouth took hers and devoured. Her robes and uniform were swiftly pushed, pulled or torn aside until his silver gaze was filled with her skin. But that wasn’t enough for him, could never be enough, and his own clothing hit the floor until he was equally bared to her.

“God Riddick, you’re beautiful.” Her awed exclamation was cut off as his mouth covered hers and his body pressed her back to the couch. Hot skin, rubbing over her and huge hands covering her breasts, sent her writhing beneath him.

“You’re mine Hermione,” He growled into her mouth. “My woman. Say it.” His mouth found the pulse point in her neck and began to nip and suck at her skin. “Say it.”

“Yes.” The word was a gasp of need. “Yours. I’m yours Riddick.” Reason, logic, caution didn’t enter into it. He needed her. And she needed him.

“My woman.” His voice was darkly satisfied. “Gonna take you…make you mine. My sweetness, wrapped around my cock, taking me in. Say it.” His teeth nipped harshly at her collarbone, leaving love bites that would prove his claim on her. “Say it Mya!”

“Yes… yours…your woman.” His mouth was sucking hard on her breasts now, his hands holding them to his mouth, stubble abrading her nipples erotically. “Take… take me…make me yours Riddick.” His hips pressed to hers, his cock rubbing between her thighs, hard and hot, the pressure tantalizing and no where near enough to satisfy. “Please Rick. My Riddick…please.”

One hand snaked between their bodies, his fingers finding her slick flesh, swollen and hot with need, plucking at her clit in a wickedly effective caress. Hermione jerked against him, her back arching as waves of pleasure crashed over her with a scream of his name. “Riddick!”

His hips lifted, twisted and ruthlessly spread her thighs apart, exposing her most sensitive private place to his gaze before the hard thick length of his cock pushed inside her. Hermione shuddered, stiffening at the abrupt invasion, his body implacable, filling her inch by inch until she was stretching around his girth.

Hot, throbbing and almost painfully tight, Riddick filled her body with his and dug deeper, grinding his hips down to hers, his mouth on her neck, gasping. “Fuck! Fuck woman…” His growl was almost breathless as he kissed her. “So damn tight Mya… ungh!” His hips rotated against hers, moving his cock inside her. The witch felt her body take him even deeper, slick and stretching her delicate tissues around him. “God damn!” His curse was filled with erotic satisfaction, his mouth finding her mouth for a long deep kiss, tongue sweeping inside to taste her moans until she was mewling and groaning into his mouth.

She couldn’t move, could only wait for him to set the pace, his body hard and heavy on her and somehow the most wonderful thing she’d ever felt. His lips left her mouth, trailed down her neck to bite and suck on her collarbone before he gave his attention to her breasts again, suckling and teasing her aching nipples. Only when she was moaning his name did he lift his lips from her flesh and slowly withdraw his body from hers. Her whine of dismay as he nearly left her made him smirk and slowly fill her again. “Ohhh…god… Riddick.” It was too much and not enough and she still couldn’t move.

“Now sweetness,” Riddick growled and his arms slid under her back and hips, “Take all of it.” His mouth came down on hers hard enough to bruise as his hips thrust against hers. Hermione cried out into his mouth as he set a punishing pace. His hips slammed down to hers, filling her over and over until the intensity of it overwhelmed her. Lightening seemed to explode from the base of her spine, igniting every nerve and she screamed his name again, shattering around him.

His voice was hot and hungry in her ears, a growl of need that had to be satisfied as he fucked her through her orgasm and forced her through another, jolt after jolt of ecstasy with each hard pound of his cock inside her body. Hermione clung to him, her hips moving to meet his, arms wrapped around his back and begging him to never stop when he buried his face in her shoulder. He nearly howled his completion, his cock digging deeply inside her, pushing past her cervix as she screamed in pleasure. His seed spilled hot and thick in her womb, and his teeth clamped down hard at the apex of her neck and shoulder.

Hermione stiffened in shock at the pain of it, her body around his still vibrating with pleasure, and felt his teeth dig deeper into her flesh, growling even as his body continued to move, throwing her over the cliff of yet another orgasm until she was almost sobbing with the conflicting sensations.

Riddick growled again when she tried to move, his hands clutching her tightly to his body, caressing and teasing her shivering flesh. His teeth in her neck held her in place, even as his fingers tugged at her nipples, plucking at the sensitive flesh and making her gasp and try to arch up to him instinctively.

The witch moaned as she felt his body in hers, growing stiff and hard, swelling impossibly large inside her as she shivered with need under him. Her lover’s groan of satisfaction vibrated through his chest and his hand pressed between their bodies again, his fingers rubbing and pulling her clit until Hermione was writhing, hips twitching beneath him. “Unghhh…Riddick… Riddick…” 

His teeth tightened in her neck, hips moving in time with his fingers as he began to fuck her, hard and fast, his hand pressing down on her stomach. She had no choice but to feel every inch of his cock moving inside her, a battering ram of pure pleasure. She could smell her blood, sex, his seed and her juices, and the sweat of their bodies as he pounded into her. 

“Riddick…unghhh…my Riddick…please…yes…” Hermione felt her body gathering for another orgasm, his teeth in her neck gripping her tight, controlling her movements, leaving her at his mercy. She could feel him, cock swelling harder, the tension riding him winding tighter and tighter as he neared his finish. Closer and closer, her body struggling for completion as he pounded into her, the witch moaned her desperation.

The release of his teeth from her neck, his lips sucking and laving the wound, allowed her to arch her body to his and threw her headlong into the most intense orgasm of her life. She screamed, her body shattering around him, wet and hot, throbbing as he thrust into her frantically, grinding inside her one last time, filling her womb in a fiery burst she could feel deep within. His voice was warm and dark in her ears but she couldn’t think or understand.

8888

She’d blanked out for a moment, pleasure overriding her brain. Hermione blinked up at Riddick and winced as she moved her neck. Her lover kissed her tentatively, her blood on his lips and she smiled, nipping at his lower lip affectionately. “Hmmm…” She kissed him again. “You bit me.” It was all she could think of to say that wouldn’t sound like an accusation.

He stiffened though, as if she had accused him of something heinous and his voice was wary. “Yeah.”

“It was a surprise.” She shrugged the shoulder that wasn’t adjacent to the bite. “You needed to?”

He seemed to realize that she was only trying to understand and nodded. “Yeah… if you weren’t mine, weren’t agreeing to be my woman, wouldn’t have needed to.”

Hermione nodded, winced and offered him a smile. “You couldn’t have warned me?”

“Wasn’t…quite sure you’d let me.” He was staring down at her, clearly trying to figure out if she was going to be angry with him.

“I agreed to be yours Riddick. Before you completely befuddled me with sex.” She reminded him gently. “If that’s what it takes to be yours then I’m not angry. Surprised but not angry.”

“I mostly go on instinct,” Riddick’s tone was as close to conciliatory as he got and Hermione knew it was the only apology he was likely to give. “It’ll scar…but it’s my mark on you. Makes you mine, as much as you giving your body to me, the mark…seals it?”

The witch kissed him again, “All right.” She nuzzled him affectionately. “I can still wear a shirt over it? You’ll know it’s there no matter what right?”

“It’s supposed to warn other men away from you, fuckin’ lot of good it’ll do covered up.” He sounded grumpy, irritated at the thought. “But I guess since you’re still in school you have to wear collared shirts.”

She smirked up at him despite the little aches and twinges of a body unused to such appetites. "Riddick, I'm pretty sure everyone in the school already knows I'm yours. Word gets around you know. It's no secret you were ready to kill the three students who attacked us."

He shifted to lie on his side, relieving her of his weight and surveying her body with unmistakable satisfaction. "Good, never put up with anyone trying to kill me, that's not about to change." He stroked one hand down her body, skimming over her hip to cup her thigh. "Fucking beautiful. And mine." His growl filled her mouth as he kissed her and she couldn't help smiling.

"Yours," She agreed and bit his lower lip. "And you're mine Riddick." She laughed softly at the surprised look on his face and kissed him again. "You claimed me Riddick. But I'm your witch and I claimed you too."

He smiled at her slowly and lowered his head to hers, his whisper dark and sweet against her mouth. "No going back sweetness."

Hermione slid her hands up his chest, absolutely love the way his silver eyes darkened to pewter at her touch. "I don't want to go back Riddick. I'm going forward at your side."

His eyes darkened to nearly black and he pressed forward, his lips hot on hers before he pulled her up against his body and groaned as she shivered against him. "Time is it Mya?" His lips rubbed against her pulse and the bite mark sending flashes of pleasure through her despite or perhaps because of its raw state. "Don' t want you to be late."

"Hmm...don't care." Hermione sighed.

He chuckled and looked up as a clock appeared on the wall in the Room. "It's all right we've got time." Big hands pulled a blanket up around her shoulders. "Gotta like this room."

She smiled as he pulled her closer, "You know I have a theory Riddick. About you. About why the Room responds to you."

His lips jerked up in a half smile as he began to unplait her braid, "Is it not supposed to?"

Hermione smiled, "People without any magic have nothing to help them see Hogwarts. There would be nothing for the Room to interact with. The Room has its own magic but if you don't have any you can come in with a witch or a wizard but the Room won't react to your thoughts or requirements."

Riddick's hand carded through her hair as he answered, lips on her throat, his mind clearly not entirely on the conversation. "Hmm...so you think I'm some sort of a wizard?"

She rolled her eyes and poked him in the chest, right above the handprint, adding sternly, "Do I need to put on my clothing to make you pay attention?"

"Fuck no," His vehement response was extremely flattering even as he considered what she'd said. "Okay, so you think I've got some magic. But you said there are people who aren't witches or wizards who can see Hogwarts but they can't do magic." His tone changed slightly as he spoke, his thoughts clearly no longer on her body pressed against his.

"Squibs." Hermione nodded. "They have just enough magic to see the castle, interact with the ghosts, that sort of thing. But I've never heard of them being able to blast three attackers with energy out of pure anger."

"And because of the Wrath you think I'm a wizard?" Riddick's gaze hardened. "Would that make me good enough for you? Being like you?"

Hermione blinked at him in shock. His reaction was so far from what she'd expected that she was caught flatfooted. "What? No? Wait, you think..." She shook her head gathering her scattered thought. "I didn't have sex with you because I think you're a wizard." 

"Then why?" His hand squeezed the nape of her neck, his voice a growl. "You start talking about this right after I claim you. Like you just realized you're bound to an ignorant savage and you've got to elevate him somehow."

"Oh my god!" Hermione poked him again. His conclusion that she was justifying this relationship by declaring him a wizard was the most insulting thing she'd ever heard. "You're such an ass! I had sex with you because I love you. I let you claim me because I love you and I want to be yours. I thought you loved me, even if it wasn't something you could say." She started to disentangle her body from his, rage setting her atremble, shoving at him impatiently. "It was an idea I came up with when I heard Madam Pomfrey talking in the hospital wing. Only magic can scramble someone's magical core. Powerful wild magic."

It was the first time she'd seen him caught completely by surprise. Sitting on the couch the Room had conjured and widened for their use, nude and comfortable in his skin Riddick was simply staring at her. "You're not lying."

Hermione drew the quilt around her body, vividly aware of her own nudity, the wild mass of her hair falling around her shoulders and down her back and the bloody bite mark on her neck aching. She'd never been as vulnerable to anyone in her life as she'd been lying next to Riddick and he'd thrown her trust in her face. "No, I'm not," She snapped the words out like a firecracker. "I gave myself to you Riddick. Gave you all of myself. And you just accused me of...of... the worst kind of hypocrisy. If that's what you think of me why did you claim me?"

Now he looked like he'd been caught flat footed, his eyes darting away from her and back, before he scrubbed a hand over his shaved skull. "I…couldn't not. I had to make you mine." His eyes darkened to near black as he stared at her. "You're... I don't have any words, not for what you are, not for me." He shook his head, "Can't say I love you because I don't know what that is. I'd kill for you Mya. I'd put my life on the line for you. I'd stand with you against anything."

She rolled her eyes at him again. "God Riddick, Harry could say the same thing. What makes what you feel for me different than what he does?" The witch was so angry her hair was throwing off sparks. She could feel her magic expanding to tingle over her skin. 

"Because you're mine!" He stood and roared the words at her. "Damned if I'll let anyone else have you. Claim you. I'm going to keep you and take care of you. Protect you. It's gonna be my kid in your belly and me you come to when you're upset. Nothing that I haven't told you. I got no more secrets. I might be an ignorant savage but I'm yours now Mya. And you're mine. That's never gonna change." His stare could have burnt her alive it was so hot with fury. "I haven't put my life on the line for anyone in a long fucking time. Never risked more than I could survive. But for you... I'd burn the goddamn world down. I'd fucking tear my heart out to keep you. I don't know what the fuck that is. But it's inside me, in my blood, screaming it's will with every damn heartbeat. And it's for you." Riddick's growl reverberated through his body as he closed the distance between them, his hands clamping around her upper arms. "You wanted me. Thought that I was enough for you. Then you start talking about how I'm a wizard. Like I'm not enough unless I got magic. How the fuck was I supposed to take that?" 

He was pressed against her now, blue light pulsing in that handprint on his chest and she could feel her magic rising to meet that pulsing light, her hair crackled and sparked with it. Eyes like black pearls glared down into hers. "Give me everything I ever wanted and in the next breath you're saying things that make me feel like I'm not good enough for you. Take me into your body, take my mark and then talk like what I am 's not enough. The fuck am I supposed to think?" Huge hands gave her a slight shake that was remarkably gentle given his anger and the amount of magic he was generating. "Don't know what I am besides Furyan but you belong to me now and I'm not giving you up!"

"I never asked you to!" She felt like snarling right back at him. "You're not less than me. You're brilliant. You're so damn intelligent and strong, and your magic matches you. I can feel it Riddick, your power, rubbing over mine. I don't care if you ever cast a spell. Or if all you do is lose your temper and blue light spills over you. My nature is to find answers. To solve puzzles and unwind riddles. I've never hidden that from you. If you don't like that all of the sudden because you have to see yourself differently then maybe you claimed the wrong witch. I thought it would be good news. I thought you'd be glad."

"Why would I care? Why'n the unholy fuck would I be glad?" Riddick's glare was no less intense but she was glad that even in his rage he could listen to her arguments. That boded well for the future at least.

"Because we could do the ritual I found," The witch snapped. "Because it wouldn't mean you 'sucking the magic out of me'. It would be safe. Even if you have a different type of power, magic is magic. Mine is wrapped around you now and it isn't hurting you. That light, the Wrath, whatever you call it, isn't hurting me."

He pulled her closer, the rage seeming to drain out of him with each breath, "All this, the whole 'you've got magic' is because you want to..." Riddick kept his gaze fixed to her face as if reading her expression, almost daring her to lie. "Because you want to do the ritual the binds us together, body and soul. So we can't lose each other, ever."

"Yes." She was still irritated with him and it showed in her tone. She may as well have added ‘you fucking moron’ after her clipped answer.

"Woman, talk about burying the lead." He sighed and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight against him and half carrying her back to the couch. There he kept her wrapped in the quilt and pressed his mouth and nose to her neck, inhaling deeply.

Hermione let him hold her, though she deliberately kept her hands light and impersonal on his shoulders and remained stiff in his arms. Her anger was still buzzing through her veins though her magic had at least stopped sparking at his touch. But as her anger subsided the hurt she'd felt at his accusation came rushing back and she blinked back tears. "Riddick, what you said, what you accused me of, that was incredibly hurtful. And rude. I haven’t ever done anything to deserve you treating me like that." 

His sigh was followed by his arms pulling her closer, "Yeah. I know. I shouldn't have said that. I took what you were saying all wrong." He leaned back so he could look her in the eyes. "It's not easy for me to think the best of people sweetness. I don't have a lot of experience with anyone doing, like you said that one time, doing what's right over what's easy."

"Riddick, you claimed me, you've said I'm yours. Even after you accused me of that...you still said I'm yours." She wanted so badly to understand what was going through his head. "I can't comprehend how you can say that and believe that, and then think I'd even... That I could behave that way. Don't you trust your own judgment?"

He shook his head, "Always did before. But I never met anyone like you. You're like a honey pot, all the qualities I want, pulling me in. For me though, trust never works out. People end up dead, selling me out, setting mercs on my ass. And with you," Riddick paused, visibly trying to figure out what to say. "You haven't done any of that. You’ve fought to protect me. Stood up for me to your friends…even. Part of me can't believe you're real. Even knowing you're mine. Feeling it, in here," He thumped his chest with the side of his fist. "I keep waiting for the shiv in the dark. Because it's been my experience that it always comes. Honey pots always have a trap."

It was her turn to sigh. "I get that. I do. I suppose I just hoped you knew me well enough to give me the benefit of the doubt if I wasn't holding a knife or wand in my hand and holding you prisoner." Hermione shook her head, "This won't work between us if you can't trust me at least a little."

"I do sweetness..." Riddick closed his eyes wearily. "I warned you that I was fucked in the head didn't I? Told you I lost everyone? Necros took away everything I ever knew. I don't wanna lose you too Mya. But I gotta understand your intentions. Beating around the bush isn't the way to get through to me. You gotta say stuff straight out. Because I'll jump right to the wrong conclusion and the worst possible way. That's how my brain works. That's how I've stayed alive so damn long. By rights I shoulda been dead couple dozen times over. But I know people, I know the base of them. I've never really gotten to see the best of them. Not even with Jack or Abu. A little bit with Caroline but I saw the worst of her, the base of her, before she ever tried to be better."

Hermione relaxed against him finally, resting her head on his shoulder, "All right. I'll try to give you the headline first and then get into the explanations." She sighed sadly, more grieved than she could express over how badly he'd been treated in the past that even trusting and caring for her, he still had such an awful kneejerk reaction.

"For what it’s worth, I'm sorry that I'm an insensitive ass and jumped to conclusions," Riddick's hand threaded into her hair, rubbing her neck and scalp. The gentle caress said more about his regret and concern than his words ever could.

"Thank you." She kissed his throat. "You're forgiven. First offense and all." His idiocy could be excused once, provided he didn’t make a habit of leaping to conclusions. And even furious with her, he hadn’t hurt her, hadn’t called her names. As far as reactions went his had been fairly mild considering his history. She hadn’t even been dating Ron during fourth year and he’d been unbelievably vitriolic when she’d gone to the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum.

"Thank fuckin' God," Riddick pulled her closer. "Be some kind of a record, woman wanting the claim dissolved five minutes after it's sealed."

"Only you Riddick," Hermione shook her head in teasing dismay, laughing at him softly. His sense of humor always made her laugh, no matter how awful the circumstances.

"Told you I was unique." His rusty chuckle mixed with her laughter.


	11. Chapter 11

Curfew was an irritant that arrived all too soon. Riddick's good night kiss in front of the Pink Lady was definitely not designed to help her sleep. "Sure I can't come in?" He teased, pulling her close and rubbing his body against hers.

"Soon as the Sorting Hat puts you in Gryffindor you can come in for as long as you like." Hermione retorted with a smirk. "We could hang out in the common room."

"Yeah...don't think I'd do too well as a first year," He grinned at her despite his reluctance to release her from his grasp. "You gonna be all right in there?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" The witch frowned, the reasons for his concern eluding her.

"That little red headed bitch shares a dorm with you?" Riddick tugged on a curl that had escaped her hasty braid. "Hate to get blood on your floors."

"I sleep with my bed warded," Hermione assured him. "And she can't match me for spellwork or experience."

"All it takes is one good day sweetness." He kissed her more gently this time. "Better go on before I drag you back to my lair. You'd be in all sorts of trouble then."

"I'm terrified of the possibilities." She laughed and kissed him quickly before giving the password and stepping into the Gryffindor common room.

Harry looked up from his work and smiled at her, waving her over to his table. "Good evening Hermione?"

The witch nodded, smiling happily, "Pretty good yeah." She nodded at his work. "Transfiguration essay?"

"Potions." Harry shrugged his unconcern. "I'm not too fussed about it. I'm a bit past wanting to be an Auror. Way too much fighting over stupid little things the way I hear it. Plus Andromeda..." He hesitated before lowering his voice. "She says she's getting up there. She’s not old, as witches go, but losing her husband and daughter…she’s tired. And Teddy's going to need a dad who's around. Not an Auror trainee who works constantly."

Hermione nodded, "Yeah. I can see why he'd be your top priority. What does Luna think? I've noticed you seem to value her opinion." She added with a grin.

Harry's face immediately lit up. "She loves Teddy. When Andy brought him to Hogsmeade Luna would have spent the entire day with him. I was talking to her about him and she agrees with me that since I'm not hurting for money, being home with him is something he and I both need." He looked over at Neville who was patiently tutoring a third year in Herbology. "Neville says all he really wants is to work in a greenhouse. He's tired of war and politics but neither one of us is ever really going to get away from them."

"Yeah," The witch looked around the common room. Most of the students who filled it were Halfbloods or Pureblood. There were only a couple of Muggleborn, herself included. The war had wiped out too many of the first generation Magicals. "Even here, there are so many of our classmates who just don't understand how dangerous Muggles can be. I mean, how do you explain the science of an atomic bomb to a wizard or witch? And did they even notice the Cold War? Or the Cuban Missile crisis?" She shook her head, “Magicals still think Obliviation will solve all their problems. They don’t know anything about digital records, surveillance cameras or CCTV. In a couple of generations, they're going to have the same old problems and Muggles will be that much more advanced.”

"While the Magicals keep stagnating despite our best efforts," Harry sighed. "I'm so tired of it all Mya."

"If I'm going to be constantly watching my back I'd rather not have people assuring me that there's no reason for my paranoia." Hermione agreed. She sat back and thought of Riddick in his cozy little lair down in the forest. She was his now, and he was hers, which would make him as much if not more of a target. To everyone at Hogwarts he was a strange breed of Muggle. For a witch of her power to choose a Muggle over a wizard would be seen as the highest form of insult by the Purebloods and a rejection of Magical society by everyone else. "Harry... what if we left?"

"Left what? Hogwarts?" Harry blinked but gave the idea some consideration. "We can't make a living in the Muggle world at the moment. Though we could use my money to live off of while we got a better education."

"No, I mean..." Hermione wasn't sure what she meant. "I mean leave England, leave Europe, go somewhere we'd have no chance of running into anyone we knew." She sighed, "Riddick...he and I..." She sighed, "No one here is going to take it well when they realize we're serious. I just want to go somewhere...without those problems. A clean slate."

"Well that'd be a great trick," Harry was thinking. "If we could do it. And that's a big if given how famous, or infamous, you and I are..." He thought some more. "We'd need a place no one could get to. Warded beyond a fare thee well. Supplies and a way to live without constantly leaving the safe haven for necessities."

"You'd need someone who knew how to grow crops." Neville remarked softly as he sat down at the table beside Hermione. "And a lot of practical knowledge because we wouldn't be able to rely on anyone else."

"We'd have to pack up everything, sell off whatever we can't take with us." Hermione was thinking. "We'd need resources. A way to learn things as we needed them. That means a library. And some way to make wands…or books on wandcraft."

"Seeds." Neville offered. "Seeds and fertilizer and tools. And herd animals if we could manage it. For a source of meat."

"A way to educate Teddy and any other kids." Harry was making notes now. "It's quite a list."

"But...if we found a place. We could do it?" Hermione was casting a cautious gaze around the common room. Thankfully she, Neville and Harry sitting together and studying were no longer an uncommon sight so no one was really taking notice of the trio.

"You'd need to learn as much as you could about Healing as fast as you can." Neville said quietly. "Muggle healing too. Not just magical. Because our potions resources would be finite until we got a greenhouse going. Assuming ingredients would grow properly wherever we end up."

The witch nodded thoughtfully and stiffened as she saw Ron coming towards them. "Incoming." She murmured and stood. "I'm for bed." She watched as Harry rolled up his notes, putting them safely away from Ron's gaze. She kissed Harry's cheek and smiled at Neville before heading up to her dorm.

8888

The wards around her bed glowed each time a spell was cast against them, a sign of power being siphoned from the attacking spell. It was a very neat trick Bill Weasley had taught her over the summer. The only problem with that was Hermione felt each time the wards were hit. Being woken up out of a sound sleep to wards being slammed with spell after spell was not her idea of a good morning. Especially given that it was four thirty in said morning.

When the attempt on her wards stopped she heard the attacker huff and mutter in sadly familiar tones before another set of bed curtains rustled and presumably closed. Hermione rolled her eyes and waited until all was silent in the dorm again before she rose and summoned her beaded bag.

When she, and Harry had decided to return to Hogwarts for their NEWT studies, Harry had remarked that it would take more than stone walls to make him feel safe again. He'd looked at his trunk and asked her how hard it was to make a bag like hers. That little project had taken him a month and a half, but he'd managed it. Making the charms permanent had taken an additional two weeks but the work had been worthwhile. Hermione hadn't put anything she valued in her school truck when she returned to Hogwarts. Not after Ginny's meltdown over the summer and her inherited tendency to snoop into other people's things. More than once Hermione had found her truck in disorder and her telltales broken. A piece of clear tape over a latch was nothing to an Alohomora spell but it told her when her trunk had been unlocked.

The Muggleborn witch made her way to the girl's bath and began to get ready for her day as she recalled Ginny Weasley's fury over Harry's decision last summer. Telling Ginny that he wasn't ready for marriage had the little redhead throwing a screaming fit that rivaled her mother's Howlers in volume. Harry had tried to calm her down, pointing out that they were friends, their relationship would have a chance to grow. He'd reminded her that he was raised as a Muggle for most of his life and Muggles simply didn't marry right out of secondary school. They were more likely to marry out of university or afterwards.

That had simply infuriated Ginny even more. And what made it worse had been the way she twisted everything around so that Hermione was blamed. Molly had still been friendly right up until Hermione had confirmed what Harry had been saying. Explaining that her parents hadn't married until they were nearly to their thirties and that she saw no reason to rush into things had cooled Mrs. Weasley's attitude towards her considerably.

Since then, relations with the Weasley's were strained at best, not including George or Bill, Charlie still being in Romania. Percy was polite, but he was trying to mend fences, not create new problems and he’d remained courteously neutral. That had been more than she expected and she’d been grateful he was polite. It had been more than Ron could manage at the best of times. Harry had a quiet word with her out of Ron's hearing and after that she and Harry had retreated to Grimmauld Place. Kreacher had been overjoyed to see them. And there was no denying the fact that the library at Grimmauld was a great help in creating Harry's bottomless satchel.

It was also peaceful there. Unlike the hustle and bustle of The Burrow, where people were always talking or running around, Grimmauld was quiet and the shouting kept to a minimum. Kreacher took good care of them without smothering them to death and dinner conversation wasn't a mixture of Quidditch, chore allotment, whining about said chore allotment, and interrogation on Muggle ways and means. Arthur was still recovering from the curses he’d taken during the war but he was as enthused as ever about all things Muggle.

Ron hadn't been happy they'd left him at the Burrow but Harry had pointed out that taking him with would have infuriated Molly and made leaving pointless since half the Weasleys would have followed. Hermione had managed to avoid Ron for the rest of the summer, not enjoying the proprietary attitude he'd often displayed towards her at the Burrow. She hadn't liked Mrs. Weasley's heavy handed attempts to teach her housekeeping either. It wasn't as if she couldn't look up the proper spells, or just do it the Muggle way.

Hermione frowned as she recalled that Mrs. Weasley hadn't approved of cooking the Muggle way either. They were both quite good cooks, Harry out of necessity from a very young age and Hermione since cooking was the only way she could practice potions during the summers. But if it couldn't be done magically Mrs. Weasley didn't approve of it. Kreacher at least didn't mind if Harry or Hermione wanted to prepare a meal, though he insisted on cleaning up after them.

It had been a good way to spend the second half of the summer. They'd studied and got back in the habit of eating regular meals. Though neither of them could break the habit of keeping some form of nourishment on their persons. Muggle protein bars had a permanent place in both their bags. A year of near starvation would take more than a summer to get over. She and Harry had often gone to Hogwarts to help with the repairs and confirmed their arrangements with McGonagall to resume their classes. When Mrs. Weasley heard that of course she had insisted Ron do the same. 

Ginny's attitude hadn't changed when school had started, and had only grown worse since then. Hermione had endured one night of hexes and jinxes before she'd warded her bed against anything even remotely disturbing. And now that she'd flat out told Ron that she wasn't interested in dating him he'd thrown away seven years of friendship and shared experience to deride her to anyone who'd listen.

It was no wonder she spent as little time in Gryffindor tower as she could. The witch got dressed and headed for the Room of Requirement, asking for the Room of Hidden things and calling for Kreacher once she was there. She couldn't help but be somewhat amazed at the still towering levels of junk. The last she'd seen of it this room had been an inferno.

"Missy Granger was calling Kreacher?" The old house elf bowed politely. "Missy has many elfs willing to serve in Hogwarts but still asks for Kreacher?"

"Because you can be trusted to help Harry, Kreacher," Hermione smiled. "Though maybe we could ask Winky if she'd like to bond to me or Harry, and she could help too."

"Missy Bad Hats called Winky?" The slightly tipsy and discombobulated elf appeared. "Winky is a good elf, Winky stays away from the hats."

Hermione watched as the older elf calmed the younger one and in a rapid-fire exchange explained that Hermione was looking for a house elf. When Kreacher was done Winky looked overjoyed if somewhat cautious. "Missy Granger wants an elf. Winky is good, she is not wanting wages. Winky is wanting work."

The witch sighed. It had taken her a long time to understand house elves and their nature. It wouldn't be changed in one generation. But having them grow accustomed to receiving respect was something she thought could be achieved. "I promise Winky. I won't give you wages or clothes. I just want you to be my elf, my family elf." She wasn't prepared for Winky to take her hand or the glow that would surround both of them. But when Winky was done she looked much healthier.

Winky smiled up at her happily. "What is it that Winky can be doing for Missy Granger?"

Hermione took a deep breath and looked around, "This is the Room of Requirement. I think the Elves call it the Come and Go Room? This version is called the Room of Hidden Things."

Winky looked around and exchanged a glance with Kreacher, "Winky thinks this is a very large room Missy Granger."

"You're right about that." Hermione sighed. "What I need is for the two of you to go through the room and catalog it. Throw away the trash, things that you cannot repair or launder. Cursed items should be taken to the Goblins at Gringotts."

"Why is Missy doing this?" Kreacher asked looking around the room and following his instincts to banish the dust and grime along with a pile of soiled handkerchiefs. 

"Master Harry and I, and some close friends, are going to hide. We're leaving the Wizarding world. We're going to find a place where we can take you and our loved ones and live. If we stay here, sooner or later, something else bad is going to happen to us." Hermione sat on a broken ottoman and looked the elves in the eyes. "It won't be easy, but the things in this room can help us. We'll need money and jewels and books. Things that will last until we learn to make our own."

"Missy and Master Harry will need our help." Kreacher nodded and looked at Winky who disappeared. "Winky and Kreacher will go through the room and find things to help Missy and Master. Many lost things here. We will make Missy and Master a list. Hogwarts will help us."

Hermione smiled in relief. "Thank you both. I'll come and help you as much as I can. Maybe you could do a section at a time and make separate areas for the different things you find. Money and jewels in one trunk, books in another, magical tools or items elsewhere?"

Kreacher rolled his eyes, "Missy will not try to teach house elves to clean. Elfs are doing this long before Missy was born."

"Yes Kreacher," She nodded. "My apologies."

Winky popped back in, several trunks following her, and put her little hands on her hips, "Missy Granger must eat breakfast and sleep. Winky is making Missy a bed here and she will bring breakfast after Missy has rested." The little elf frowned. "And Winky will make sure nasty redheads do not wake Missy too early anymore."

Hermione nodded and moved obediently to the conjured bed, lying down and closing her eyes. "Hmm...Winky, my...boyfriend, Riddick, do you know him?"

Winky's voice was soft as she tucked a coverlet around the witch. "Winky knows the wild magic man in the Forest. The man who sees through illusions. Sees all us house elves."

"When you find some quilts in here, will you clean them and add warming charms? And bring them to him?" Hermione requested drowsily. "It's so cold outside. I worry about him."

"Winky will see to it. Missy must rest now." The elf patted Hermione's hand gently.

8888

"Sorceress." That eerie voice greeted her even as Hermione looked around at the lush valley. "You return to your new world." The blonde woman strode towards her, the valley turning to ash in her wake. "You are privileged to see it as it was and could be again. Even now, it struggles for renewal."

Hermione shook her head, "I still don't know where I am. How are we supposed to get here if we don't know where it is? And who are all the people you named?"

"You ask questions for which your answers are found within yourself. You are Bound to Him now. You bear His mark even as you will one day bear his children." Fey eyes stared down at the witch. "We have no knowledge of the names you seek. They are written across the cosmos, prophesied to renew our race. Do you not prepare? Even now, while you rest, the servants you will need work to make all of this possible."

The witch frowned, "The house elves? They'll be able to help? Leaving their homes won't hurt them?"

The ghostly laugh that floated over the air was mocking. "Did you not just bond to your elf and promise she would not be left behind? Did she bond to bricks and stone and dirt? Or did she bond to you and your bloodline? And His, now that you are bound to Him."

Hermione frowned at the barren valley, "What did this? What caused this destruction?"

"The destruction of an entire race. The arrogance of one who thought he could circumvent prophecy and in so doing, brought it about." Dark eyes stared into Hermione's. "You know about that too well Sorceress. The damage a prophecy can do."

"All this, because of one man," Hermione found herself staring out over the sea of mass graves. "Yes, I know about prophecies. The destruction they can bring about."

"Only a few of our race survived. Scattered to the winds, chained or imprisoned. Or thrown into the past." Blonde braids drifted over one shoulder as the apparition turned to look at the valley of dead. "They will all come home eventually. We are all drawn home."

"Where is home?" She knew she wouldn't get a real answer but she couldn't stop the question.

"Far and away in time not yet come." 

8888

Hermione woke with a start as Winky arrived with tea and toast. "Missy must go to the Hall for breakfast, but Winky sees she has not been eating well."

The witch took the tea gratefully, her mind half on her dream, and looked around the room. It already looked cleaner and more organized in places, especially around her. "Thank you Winky." She sipped at the hot sweet beverage and thought. "Winky, do you know any elves who are good at farming and agriculture?"

Winky looked at her with her big brown eyes, "Missy wishes to start a farm?"

Hermione shook her head, still half dreaming, seeing that ravaged land as she spoke, "I saw a place, where the ground had been scorched, as if there was a terrible fire. And thousands upon thousands had died. It had volcanos, mountains that threw fire and smoke into the air, and two moons. I need elves who would come to help heal that place. Elves who are not afraid of a strange place. It would be hard work."

"Winky is asking Kreacher and the Hogwarts elves," The little elf decided with a nod. "Missy must go to breakfast now. Winky has brought Missy's husband his quilts with warming charms. Master Riddick was pleased his woman thought of him. Gave us a message for Missy Granger that he will see her at breakfast."

"All right Winky, I can take a hint." Hermione drank the last of her tea and ate her toast, pushing herself out of bed and grabbing her satchel of books and homework.

"Missy cannot take much of one since she is still here talking," Winky chivied her out of the room and Hermione hurried down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

8888

Riddick, Harry and Neville were waiting for her when she arrived in the Great Hall. Apparently Harry and Neville's concern had infected Riddick somewhat since the moment she was within arms reach he was giving her a once over. “Figured I’d see you here first thing sweetness, and then these two came in, said you weren’t in the dorms.”

“Mya where’ve you been,” Harry waited until she was seated before asking, though it was obvious to anyone who knew him that he had wanted to bombard her with questions the moment he saw her. Neville was quieter, but he was clearly also waiting for an answer.

“You know what we talked about last night?” Hermione surreptitiously cast a privacy charm.

“Leaving? Finding a place to just live?” Neville murmured as he began to fill his plate.

“Hmm…” Hermione looked up at Riddick. “Once people figure out I’ve accepted your suit, that I’m choosing someone they consider a Muggle over a wizard… well…those politics we mentioned? They’re going to get worse.”

“Got the impression you were sick of dealing with all of it anyway.” Riddick nodded his understanding. His silver gaze fell on Harry, “Tired of solving their problems for them?”

“Tired of running in place,” Harry corrected him. “We destroyed a Dark Lord. The second in two generations. I don’t think any of us should be required to deal with a third. Hell there shouldn’t even be a third.”

“But that’s what will happen,” Neville concurred. “If the conditions don’t change, and attitudes the shape those conditions certainly haven’t, then the next Dark Lord will rise during our children’s lifetimes if not ours. I lost my parents, my grandmother, I’m the last Longbottom. Harry’s the last Potter. If the Purebloods have their way Hermione will die before she can even begin a House.”

“We’ve paid enough.” Hermione said firmly. “We’re going to leave before we’re forced to pay anymore.”

“Won’t see me arguing,” Riddick wrapped an arm around her and squeezed her waist. “What’s that got to do with where you’ve been this morning?”

Hermione took a deep breath and began to explain her morning, beginning with her rude awakening at an ungodly hour and ending with Winky chivying her out of the bed. “So they’re going to find free elves who’ll want to bond to us. All of us, because the more of us there are the better off the elves are. And they’re going through the Room for anything we could use either at our new place or to fund us getting there.”

“Hermione, that’s brilliant.” Neville grinned, “All that stuff… I’ll bet a lot of it is dead useful. Not to mention most of the owners are probably long gone.”

The witch smiled slightly, “I did tell Kreacher that if they found anything with someone’s family crest on it that they should go through Gringotts and offer it back, for a finder’s fee. Perfectly reasonable.”

“I remember a lot of stuff in that room,” Harry was looking around the hall thoughtfully. “The place was easily as big as the Great Hall. But it got burnt up when the diadem was destroyed.”

“Well we have time. We’ve only finished our first term.” Hermione shrugged. “Plus, we can go and help them. And maybe Winky and Kreacher will find some more elves. As for it being burnt up, it was still a huge room of junk when I asked the Room for it.”

“I’ll check with the elves at Longbottom Hall,” Neville offered quietly. “They could help. They might even have some ideas on how to bring what we need with us.”

“Neville, you’re sure about this?” Harry asked their quiet friend. “You’re more entrenched in this world than Mya or I. This is where you grew up. Won’t you miss your home?”

Neville chuckled, “That’s why I want to talk to the elves at the Hall. Elven magic is different than ours. Home means everything to them.”

Hermione stared at him as the implications of what he’d said hit her. “You’re talking about actually moving Longbottom Hall.”

The Pureblood scion of House Longbottom shrugged. “The Hall is tied to the Land. But the Land where the Hall sits, it’s more of a doorway. That’s its nature.”

“How far?” Harry swallowed some eggs and toast before he asked his question. “Across the world? Farther?”

“Our family legend says that Longbottom Hall started as a Faery mound. And that it’s tied to the Fey Realm. That’s the Land the Hall is bound to.” Neville told him with a slight smirk. It was clear the quiet boy was enjoying his friends’ shock. “The Fey go everywhere, to worlds we’ve never even seen. It’s a matter of choosing a place to bind the Hall to, and that’s where Longbottom Hall will be.”

Riddick was tilting his head, his expression thoughtful, “Know how to get to those other worlds? A guide? If you had a name?”

It was Neville’s turn to think and his expression tilted in concentration. “I’d have to ask the elves.” He said finally. “I only know most of this because of my nanny’s bedtime stories. But we could meet in the Room tonight and I’ll call her to me and ask.”

Riddick nodded and Hermione looked at him curiously. “What are you thinking?”

He looked down at her, silver eyes dark, and pulled her close. “Something that seemed impossible, but might not be.” He said after a while. “Wondered if there was any way to get to Furya.”

“Your world.” The witch breathed and looked at Neville. “Could we?” Something was tickling in her brain. Something she should remember. But it was just out of reach and what Neville had to say was fascinating in its possibilities.

“Another world?” Harry kept his voice low, “Could we even survive there? It’s one thing to find an island and hide it. But Muggles have only been to the moon. How would we get there?”

“My people lived there,” Riddick told him in his low firm voice. “If Mya’s right about me, you’d be fine there too. Place needs Furyans to live there. People with magic, if I’m any kind of indicator.”

Hermione forced herself to finish her breakfast and looked at the other three. “If I don’t drop this privacy spell soon people will know something’s up. So tonight? After dinner?”

“Tonight.” Harry agreed and Neville nodded. Riddick looked down at her and smiled, nodding.

“All right then.” Dispelling the Muffliato was easier than bringing it up and Hermione deliberately turned the conversation to homework.

8888


	12. Chapter 12

For the first time in a long time, Hermione couldn’t muster any interest in her classes. More than once Riddick’s solid hand on her waist was the only thing keeping her calm as she considered the possibilities Neville’s family lore had opened up.

Finally, the school day was done and dinner was over, but the feeling of being watched by malevolent eyes had returned. The Witch pushed food around her plate, barely eating as she waited for the meal to be over. Hermione found herself glaring at Harry when he began to take a second pudding. “Easy sweetness,” Riddick’s mouth against her ear sent shivers down her spine and she leaned into him instinctively.

“I’m just anxious… I’ve been—“ Hermione had her wand out before she could finish the sentence, blocking a jinx headed towards the two of them and deflecting it harmlessly towards the ceiling. Another spell in the same color gave away the position of her attacker and the type of spell. “Really Ginny? Not happy with trying to hex me while I sleep, now I can’t eat a meal in peace?”

Harry’s Expelliarmus saw Ginny’s wand flying from her hand to his and snapped in two. “That should keep you from cursing anyone for a while.” He threw the pieces to the ground as Professor McGonagall approached them.

“Mr. Potter, you know that Priori Incantatem doesn’t work on broken wands,” The Headmistress sighed. “Two points from Gryffindor for not thinking ahead.” She turned and looked at Ginny Weasley. “Miss Weasley, this is the third time you’ve been involved in such attacks. You will accompany me to my office and I’ll be contacting your parents. If you wish to sit your NEWTs you’ll have to do so at the Ministry.”

“About damn time,” Neville muttered and Harry nodded his agreement.

“Miss Granger, can I assume you are well?” McGonagall addressed her star student. “I saw two hexes deflected. There were no others?” 

“No ma’am.” Hermione shook her head. “Though I’m seriously reconsidering the merits of eating in the Great Hall.”

“I cannot say that I blame you,” The Headmistress had done her best to hold a hard line against bullying but she couldn’t be everywhere at once. The elderly witch regarded Ginny Weasley with distinct displeasure. “Perhaps now your mother will finally allow us to contact the mind healers.”

Hermione stared at the Headmistress in shock. “Mrs. Weasley wouldn’t let them help her?”

Professor McGonagall sighed, “Normally I would not answer such a question Miss Granger. But as you have been targeted by Miss Weasley through no fault of your own, I feel you are owed an explanation.” Sad eyes regarded the slender redhead glaring malevolently at Hermione. “Mrs. Weasley, as you know, has strong opinions and does not feel that mind healing is anything more than ‘rubbish invented by foolish people too weak-minded to deal with their own problems’. She refused to even consider that Ginny might need help or healing and stated adamantly that she would not pay for any such treatment.”

Hermione, felt more than heard Riddick’s furious growl, “You mean this girl’s been living with who the fuck knows what in her head for seven years and no one’s helped her?”

“Without the parent’s consent we were powerless to do anything. And as Dumbledore didn’t see fit to consider any healing might be required there is no persuading Molly Weasley that her daughter needs help.” McGonagall said with a frown. 

“What if we paid for the healer,” Harry had been listening quietly, the anger on his face fading upon hearing the news that Ginny hadn’t had any help at all to deal with the after effects of possession by Voldemort or the trauma of the last seven years which could not have ameliorated the effects of possession. “If we keep Ginny here, and get a mind healer from St. Mungos to come and treat Ginny. If Mrs. Weasley doesn’t see the bills she doesn’t have to know.”

“And why hasn’t Mr. Weasley stepped in on Ginny’s behalf?” Neville asked with a frown. “He’s the head of the family, he should be able to do something.” Hermione sighed and Harry's expression was troubled.

“Arthur…has not completely recovered from the Last Battle.” The Professor said softly. “His health is such that were he aware of the situation the stress of dealing with it, the worry, might very well kill him. He needs more time to recuperate from the damage the curses did to him. Time that Miss Weasley doesn’t have if her behavior this year is anything to judge by.” She regarded Harry thoughtfully, “Mr. Potter, if you are willing to pay for a mind healer I will keep Miss Weasley here. She clearly will not receive any help at home.”

“And placing her under arrest is guaranteed to make things worse.” Hermione added wryly. 

“Then let’s do that.” Harry took a roll of parchment out of his bag and wrote a note, pressing his ring into the bottom next to his signature. “As Ginny owes me a life debt I’m calling it in. She will see the mind healer we provide. Present this to the best mind healer you can find. It’ll cover any costs.”

Professor McGonagall smiled tremulously and nodded, a gentle Mobilicorpus levitating Ginny. “Thank you Mr. Potter. Even if she does not appreciate it now, I believe Miss Weasley will be grateful in the future.” She took the roll of parchment and tucked it in her sleeve before walking out of the Great Hall, Ginny’s immobilized body floating along behind her.

“Shit.” Neville said succinctly.

Riddick nodded his agreement. “Like to have a few pointed words with her mother.”

Hermione sighed, “I’d just like it if she’d stop cursing me. Constantly.” But the anger she’d felt towards Ginny since summer had faded with the knowledge that the girl had received no help or recognition even that she might need healing. The urge to curse Mrs. Weasley was uppermost in her mind and it was a good thing for that matron that she wasn’t in the Great Hall.

“C’mon,” Harry shook his head and grabbed his book bag, Neville doing the same while Hermione and Riddick followed.

8888

Neville’s reaction to the Room of Hidden things was an awestruck stare. “Merlin’s beard this place is huge!” He looked at the towering piles of books, junk, clothing and brooms and then back at Hermione. “And you think we’ll be able to get this cleared out before the end of the year?”

Hermione shrugged, “With the help of the house elves, yes.” 

Harry was looking around and flipping open the trunks that the elves had laid out near the entrance to the room. “Kreacher?”

The elf popped in with an expression pleasure, “Master Harry called for Kreacher. Master would like pudding? Or tea?”

Harry was looking around, “Tea for all of us would be great Kreacher thanks. You’re not working too hard are you?”

Kreacher shook his head happily, “Missy Granger has given Kreacher so much work. Kreacher is happy. Master does not make enough work for Kreacher. Kreacher and Winky are looking for other elfs for Missy and Master.” He popped away and returned in a moment with a tea tray, setting it on one of the trucks and summoning four chairs and a table out of the depths of the room.

Riddick regarded the delicate looking chair skeptically, “Sure I won’t break this?”

The male elf looked up at him and then regarded the chair thoughtfully before snapping his fingers at it. “Mister Riddick is safe to sit now. Kreacher be making the chair sturdy for Mister Riddick.” Hermione smiled as the elf cast a glance at Harry and then ventured an opinion, something the elf was learning his master welcomed. “Mister Riddick should bond to a free elf. Winky is pleased to serve Missy Granger’s husband but Mister Riddick deserves an elf of his own to help him.”

Poor Kreacher was rewarded for this piece of advice with several responses. Harry’s shout of ‘Husband!?”, was closely followed by Neville’s stunned, “Elf? He’s a wizard?”, along with Riddick’s grin and Hermione’s smile as her boyfriend/husband tugged her into his lap for a kiss.

The hot sweet sting of Riddick’s kiss seeping into her veins drew all of Hermione’s attention, his hands holding her close and the warmth of his body pressed to hers made her surroundings superfluous. At least until Kreacher proffering tea got Riddick’s attention. “Master Riddick, Missy Granger, must have tea now.”

Hermione smiled at the elf and took her cup, transfiguring the chair into something wider and more comfortable for them both to sit on. Riddick still kept her legs draped over his lap and one arm around her waist. After she’d had a sip of her tea, and at her nudge Riddick had done the same, thus satisfying Kreacher, the witch looked at her two friends. “So... Questions?”

“Husband?” Harry was the particular blend of angry, hurt and protective that only he seemed able to pull off. “When did you get married?”

“It’s not a marriage like in a church Harry,” Hermione pulled the collar of her shirt down to expose the healing mark Riddick had given her. It was obvious that the mark would leave set of silvery scars. “It’s the way Riddick’s people marry, or bond. I suppose to house elves it must look like a marriage bond.” Harry’s expression cleared somewhat, hurt feelings fading, thankfully.

Before he or Neville could question further, Winky popped in with a dirty looking elf whose ears were tattered as if he’d been bitten over and over. “Master Riddick sir, Winky is finding a proper elf for the master. Snips would like to bond with the wild magic Wizard. Snips is good at cleaning and cooking but also with animals and metal.”

“Metal huh,” Riddick looked at the elf. “What kind of metal work?”

“Snips is helping his old master in the forge and helping to shoe horses.” The battered looking elf stared up at Riddick with dark, nearly black, eyes. “Snips did leatherwork too, for the old master. Until the bad wizards killed the old master and stole all the things they could find.”

“You think you’d be okay, being bonded to me? I’m not a wizard like these three,” Riddick warned him. “Don’t know if it’ll even work.”

“Mister Riddick can see Snips, and Snips can see the magic in Mister Riddick,” The elf told him with a quiet dignity. “If Mister Riddick doesn’t want Snips, Snips will understand.”

“All right,” Riddick sighed. “You bond to me and Hermione. And Winky can bond to me too. So you’re our elves, not just hers and mine. Right?”

The elves looked thrilled at the thought and both of them grabbed his hand, resulting in a bright silver glow, while Snips taking Hermione’s hand glowed golden. Snips grinned, his teeth alarmingly crooked and a bit sharp looking, and snapped his fingers, cleaning himself of grime. “Snips will see to Master Riddick’s things. Master has made a good shelter; Snips will make it better.”

Riddick shook his head, “That can wait. You give these two a hand with this room. We can talk about the shelter when I’m there later.”

When the elves bowed happily and popped away Neville finally reiterated his question. “Riddick is a wizard?”

“That’s what Hermione says.” Riddick shrugged his unconcern. “Wouldn’t care except that it means we can do a ritual so we can’t lose each other.”

“The elves recognize him as a Wizard as well.” Hermione explained, “We didn’t know for sure until Riddick’s magic scrambled the magical cores of the three students that attacked us. Only magic has an effect on someone’s core. Wizards have lived through EMPs without any change in their magic. Riddick’s works differently than ours, but he’s still a Wizard. Though I suppose the correct term might be Mage.”

“Yeah, which might come in handy if I could do anything with it besides blow shit up.” Riddick shrugged again. “More interested in exactly what you were talking about this morning. Your family has stories about what exactly?” He looked at Neville expectantly.

8888

When Neville was done speaking Hermione was still trying to wrap her brain around his story. “Your family is descended from the Daonine Sidhe?”

Neville rolled his eyes, “It’s not that big a deal Hermione. All of us are, in one way or another. The Tuatha de Danann were supposedly defeated by the Gauls. The ones who were left became the Daonine Sidhe. They lived in Faery mounds and eventually the mounds became homes. They changed according to what the people around them needed to see. Longbottom Hall wasn’t always called by that name. The histories go so far back that no one really knows all of them anymore.”

“So the Sidhe were really just wizards?” Harry sounded a bit dazed and Hermione couldn’t blame him.

Neville shook his head, “No one really knows if the Sidhe were just human wizards or if they were something else and married humans and we're their descendants. No one talks about this. Its part of why Purebloods are so…restrictive about who they marry, who they allow into their families. The witch burnings were just the tip of the iceberg.”

“So you go into Longbottom Hall and you’re actually inside a Faery mound.” Riddick had the tone of voice that said he was choosing his words carefully.

The Pureblood wizard nodded. “Exactly. And when you go out the back door, so to speak, you’re in Faery. Cross a field and open another door, you could be on a different world, or in someone else’s house. The trick, as Maisie told us, is choosing which one.” Neville's elf hadn't known exactly how to find a specific world but she had told him she thought there was a way.

“And finding one that’s friendly I bet.” Riddick commented.

Neville nodded. “Yeah, the dark families, light families, grey…they’re not bad, they just place importance on different things. The legends talk about the Seelie and Unseelie courts and how in one your word was your bond and in the other your blood was required for any vow.”

"I can't imagine that went over too well with the Muggleborn," Harry offered quietly. "And families would resent having to explain traditions that went back thousands of years."

"Especially when they can't explain all the reasons themselves. Not without a lot of research and no one likes to admit they're ignorant of their own traditions." The quiet boy agreed. "Because ‘that's how it's always been done’ doesn't work on Muggleborn because Muggles are more innovative. It's not a bad thing, but there are some traditions that shouldn't be changed and if Purebloods can't explain properly Muggleborns won't listen. Then they're ostracized for not conforming and the Pureblood families are the poorer for it."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "And none of this would happen if anyone in the Wizarding World questioned what they're told. It's no wonder we've had two generations worth of Dark Lords. With very few exceptions, everyone believes what they read in Witch Weekly or the Prophet. No one applies logic to a problem, or questions the status quo. Look at the way people treat Harry, or me. We're either angelic or demonic and almost no happy medium in between."

Harry nodded, "In school Muggles are taught to ask questions. Especially in history and social studies. If you understand something you're less likely to be afraid of it." He looked around the room of lost things for a moment before adding, "I thought Wizarding History would be more like the things you told us Neville. Where magic comes from, how Hogwarts was build, how it got its name, Merlin and Taliesin and Arthur. Not Goblin War after Goblin Rebellion."

Neville spread his hands a bit helplessly. "I know. I was disappointed with Binns too."

"It's all real interesting, how screwed up your society is," Riddick's voice reminded them of their actual purpose for meeting. "But since our aim is to leave all this behind, seems a little pointless to dwell on it." He looked at Hermione. "Less you've all changed your mind?"

Hermione shook her head and kissed him softly. "No. Never." She looked at Harry and Neville, each of whom shook their heads in denial.

"I'll admit I'm concerned," Neville admitted. "We'll need some pretty powerful magic to find this Furya of yours. Maisie was pretty certain there was a way to do it, it's just going to take us a little time to figure it out. But that doesn't mean I don't want to leave everything here behind. I only want to see if Morag would come with me."

"And I was hoping Luna would be interested," Harry added quietly. "Andromeda might like to come and we'd have to bring Teddy."

"Harry's godchild and his grandmother," Hermione explained to Riddick. "Harry can't abandon them."

Riddick was thinking now, Hermione knew his look; his mind was turning things over and over, picking the plan apart. "So we've got at least eight people, and the elves...but according to Neville here, we don't need to do much of anything but find a way through Longbottom Hall to Furya."

Neville's scarred face pulled into a grimace. "I wish it were that simple. But the way through a Faery mound is never easy. There are a host of things we wouldn't want to come across in the Faery realms. Where do you think Boggarts, Red Caps, Hinky Punks and Dementors come from after all?"

Hermione shivered and Riddick's arm tightened around her waist protectively. "I wondered. No one ever explained."

Neville was looking at the piles of junk with a speculative eye. "We might be able to buy safe passage through some places, depending on the territory. Cursed objects, or lost heirlooms...we could trade things."

"Nev, how many Pureblood families have homes like yours," Harry asked suddenly.

Hermione tilted her head, looking at him thoughtfully, "You think Grimmauld might have a connection too?"

"That place is like a maze," Harry reminded her. "Kreacher might know. If Andromeda doesn't."

Kreacher popped in, the uncanny elven ability to hear his name from miles away serving him in good stead, "Master wanted Kreacher?"

Harry grinned at him, "Not if you're busy Kreacher. But I was wondering something about Grimmauld place. Neville says Longbottom Hall is actually a Faery mound."

The elf chuckled, a dry dusty sound, and nodded. "Mistress used to say our family was Black by name and Black in heritage and Black in deeds. Grimmauld is the gateway... and the test. Master Harry has not sealed himself to Grimmauld Place, until he does, the Ways will not be open to him."

Hermione and Harry exchanged a look that expressed their shared exasperation in regards to their shared ignorance and Harry asked cautiously. "Kreacher what would I need to do, to seal myself to Grimmauld?"

"Master Harry must use his blood to seal himself to Grimmauld. Blood on the threshold." Kreacher had the air of someone patiently teaching preschoolers. "Then Grimmauld will open all doors to the Master. And all the Ways between will be sealed against outsiders unless the Master allows them passage."

The witch could tell from the look on Harry's face that he would be headed to Grimmauld the moment he got part of a day free.

"Okay so we've got a few options then." Riddick looked around the room, his mouth quirking up wryly at the piles of junk. "I'm guessing this is kind of like the lost and found?"

"More like just lost." Harry grinned at him. "I'm a little surprised, I thought that Fiendfyre went through this place and destroyed most of it."

Kreacher nodded, “Master Harry is right. These piles are all the piles not in the room when it burnt. The Room of Lost Things is many many rooms. When Master went to find the Diadem he did not notice that the Room was smaller so he could find it more quickly?”

Hermione chuckled, “That would explain why it didn’t take us three months of searching.” 

Harry nodded ruefully and sipped his tea. “Thanks Kreacher. Tomorrow my afternoon is free. Can you pop me back to Grimmauld and I’ll seal myself to the house? I’d like to get that done as soon as possible.”

Kreacher nodded and popped away, presumably to do some more work. Hermione looked at the three men. “So…we have a plan of sorts? If Harry can control Grimmauld’s territory and Neville Longbottom Hall’s…We’d have some sort of safe harbor. What we’d need is a sort of divining rod to give us a direction and distance. Otherwise we’re stumbling around blind.”

“Maisie is going to get the other elves looking through the library for a way to find a specific realm.” Neville offered. He looked excited now that they had the beginnings of a plan. “We could really do this huh?”

Harry nodded, grinning. “On Riddick’s world, we could get a new start. And if we can seal the mounds to his world, then no one could follow us without going through the Faery realms.”

“They’d have no idea where we were, or how we’d gone.” Neville agreed. “The adults might suspect, given that the Hall and Grimmauld will just vanish. But they won’t be able to prove anything. For all they know we could be under a Fidelis.”

“Harry, have you talked to the Goblin’s about your grandparents? Your father’s parents?” Hermione asked suddenly. “Where did they live?”

Her friend and brother shook his head, “I talked to them, they said that the Potter ancestral home is hidden to anyone who isn’t a Potter or bound to a Potter. They gave me a book since I’m of age now. I haven’t had a chance to go through it.” Harry looked at her curiously. “You think that Potter Manor is another Faery Mound?”

“Not being able to find it unless you’re a Potter lends credence to that theory,” Neville offered. “If it was bound by a simple Fidelis it would have been found by now.”

“So go through the book and see if I can find clues to where it is.” Harry nodded. “I’ll do that when we go back to the dorms.”

The Gryffindor’s exchanged grins. Bare beginnings of a plan or not, this was their best chance for a fresh start. Hermione frowned and wondered why the conversation sent something tickling at the back of her brain. Like something she should remember and didn’t.


	13. Chapter 13

Hermione had waved the boys off and stayed with Riddick in the Room, craving the comfort of his touch. He hadn’t seemed to mind obliging her, wrapping her in his arms and stroking his hand along her braid and spine. “Sweetness?”

“Hmm?” She looked up and smiled. His face was so expressive now that she’d gotten to know him. Pewter eyes and a particular set to his mouth told her he was concerned and curious about something and worried she would be bothered by the question. When it came to his personal safety no query was too intrusive for Riddick, but curiosity was another matter. “You’re curious about something.”

“Yeah, just… the way you, Harry and Neville seem to talk.” He began slowly. “You’ve been attacked since we’ve met. And Harry ended up in that duel…”

“Why are we so anxious to leave and go to a place where we have no idea what’s in store?” Put it like that and it did seem more than a little insane, Hermione thought wryly. 

“Yeah, you three talk about politics…and how nothing’s changed.” Riddick mused, “Guess I’m just wondering what I haven’t seen. It’s a long way from not liking how things are to chucking it all and going to a completely different world.”

Hermione considered the question for a moment, grateful that Riddick didn’t press for immediate answers but allowed her to think things over. “You’ve been hunted…you said mercenaries were always trying to jail you.” When he nodded she continued, “When the war began, the Ministry denied that Voldemort was back. They tried to discredit Harry at every turn.” She sighed and shook her head. “When it was proven beyond a doubt that the war had begun, Voldemort had gotten a good hold of the Ministry. They were ineffectual before, but after the Minister was killed we had our own government hunting us. If you were Muggleborn it was an almost instant death sentence. And they had access to everything, all the information the Ministry used to enforce the law, the enemy used to track down Muggleborn and the Light families.”

“Is that why this place seems so empty?” Riddick gestured at the school around them. “The place is huge, but it’s like a ghost town.”

“It’s a big part of it.” Hermione nodded, “And considering the last generation was also fighting a war, and before that there was World War II and Grindelwald simultaneously… We’ve had three generations now that lost a third to half of the population.”

“Don’t know Harry or Neville that well,” Riddick offered thoughtfully. “But you don’t seem the type to just give up and leave.”

“I’m not, not really,” She sighed, suddenly exhausted just from thinking about all of it. “You’re an impartial observer, if you hadn’t been pulled here in the middle of the Last Battle, would you guess from the way people act that there’d been a war?”

Riddick took a few moments, obviously considering that, before he answered with a shake of his head. “The teachers…they seem tired. Worn down, but the kids, they act like this is just school. Especially the younger ones.”

“Because as far as they’re concerned it’s over. It’s done. They want to just go back to the way things were when they felt safe.” Hermione heard the bitterness in her words and shook her head. “Part of me wishes I could do that too. But I can’t. And they don’t understand why Harry and I are jumpy. Why Neville hardly sleeps. Ron’s just like the rest, the bad days are over, why are we all fussed. Ron's never had to... he didn't have a hard life. Being poor isn't the worst thing when you have magic to help with the basics. And in the middle of all of it, he left Harry and I alone. He abandoned us. We can't forget that. But he's... he lost a brother but its as if the war hasn't touched him. They all think that it’s never going to happen again. Except it will. Nothing’s changed. And I’m so tired…”

“Get the feeling that when there were Muggleborn around, you and the Halfbloods outnumbered the Purebloods?” Riddick was clearly thinking of the implications. “And I don’t know much about your government but I guess it’s at least partially representative of the population?”

Hermione shook her head, “Not really no. That’s part of the problem. The people who make up the ruling body all get their jobs by having connections, not by being the best qualified. Nepotism at its finest. And the Wizengamot, the lawmakers and judges, they’re all made up of the Houses and officers of the government. The only one who’s elected is the Minister. And no one will ever elect a Muggleborn as a minister because he's elected by the Wizengamot.”

“So they bring you into this world and then you don’t even get a say in how it’s governed?” Riddick was staring at her as if she suddenly begun spouting gibberish. “No wonder you keep saying nothing’s changed. And nothing will.”

She nodded, “Part of me hates to leave. To just…give up and go. But if I stay… if I try to change things… it’s going to be a battle every day. And quite frankly, there’s another part of me that says let them all reap what they sow. I was born a witch. That doesn’t mean I have to live in a society that looks down on me and ignores my brain in favor of my childbearing capabilities because I’m not Pureblood. Women here... there's equality in the workplace but other than that, it's these odd Victorian values. Only instead of gender it's blood purity.”

“Put it that way I’m curious why you and Harry even came back?” Her lover was rubbing the back of her neck, easing some of her tension.

“I hate to leave something half finished,” Hermione admitted. “And there were things we really needed to learn. Plus, school was already paid for.”

Riddick chuckled, low and wicked, “Well can’t blame you for getting your money’s worth. Got any ideas how I can help with this plan of ours? The elves are doing a lot of the work, but I’m not used to sitting on my ass all day.”

“Actually…” Hermione grinned at him. “How’d you like to learn magic?”

8888

Harry had a look on his face that Hermione simultaneously adored and dreaded. It usually meant he was planning to do something extremely good but it might also be completely impractical. Hermione groaned and poked at Harry’s shin with her toes, unwilling to move from her comfortable position next to Riddick. “Harry I know that look. Tell me what you’re thinking so I know what we’re dealing with.”

She felt more than saw Riddick look up and focus his attention on her brother. "Something we oughta know?"

Harry sighed and shrugged. "I guess I was just thinking of all the kids who ended up in orphanages because of the Deatheaters. They went after Muggleborn families and you know how Pureblood families are. They'll make a Pureblood orphan a ward, but the Muggleborn kids can just fend for themselves."

"And Tom Riddle, Voldemort," She added the aside for Riddick's benefit, "Grew up in a Muggle orphanage."

Harry nodded, "If someone had shown him some kindness, offered him a home, would he have become the bloodthirsty megalomaniac who started two wars?"

"Hindsight is twenty/twenty Harry." Hermione sighed. "But I see your point."

Neville looked up from the book he was studying, "There are plenty of Purebloods whose ancestry is considered questionable. Most of them will have to be homeschooled in one of the group homes the Ministry established. There won't be any money to send them to Hogwarts. It's a miracle most of them survived. Accidental magic kicked in with a lot of the younger ones. The older ones took their siblings and hid. Put body binds on them so they wouldn't cry out and waited out the attacks. Or just went on the run only to get caught later. We found a lot of kids in the Snatchers' camps."

"So lemme get this straight," Riddick's drawl seemed to go straight to Hermione's middle, like the best firewhiskey. "You've got a bunch of kids, with no one taking care of them, all stuck in foster homes or orphanages, and no one's doing anything to help them."

"Pretty much," Neville sighed. "We've all been trying to influence the Wizengamot so that we can do something about these kids. Most of them aren't even eleven yet. There are a couple who are of age to come to Hogwarts but there's no money."

"I've been trying to push through scholarships but Kingsley can't get the Ministry to support the idea because most of them are Muggleborn or Halfbloods." Harry added bitterly. "I've got the money, but no one lets me do anything with it. Unless I'm trying to bribe someone. But that won't help the kids."

"So what do you want to do?" Hermione got to the point. "You've got an idea or you wouldn't have that look on your face."

"I want to find all the kids who were orphaned and move them into Grimmauld Place, or Longbottom Hall. Or the Potter estate when we find it." Harry finally came out with it after a few moments of hesitation. "And I want to take them with us when we leave."

Hermione had the irreverent thought that you could have heard crickets chirping in the wake of Harry's announcement. "O-okay..." She said slowly. "How would we do that?" She looked at Neville who was fast becoming their expert on Wizarding laws and traditions.

"Sounds like no one really gives a damn about the kids," Riddick observed. "Why don't we just find the places where they are and get the elves to bring them to the houses?"

"The Purebloods wouldn't be too much of an issue," Neville said thoughtfully. "They know about elves even if they didn't have one. Some of them might actually have a house elf or two. They'd understand the idea of becoming our wards."

"The Muggleborn though," Hermione sighed. "We'd have to find them, scattered all over the country, and then bring them one by one to the houses. And explain things to them, the ones who don't know already. It won't be an easy process."

Riddick looked down at her and smiled slowly, "Guess you're lucky you won't have to do it all yourself. Been teaching me magic haven't you? Of a sort."

"Of a sort," Hermione giggled. Riddick didn't bother with wand movements or incantations. His idea of magic was to point the bone knife he'd carved at something and tell it what to do. Float, burn, water and so on. The hardest thing she'd had to teach him was how to harness the magic inside him without sending out a shockwave that scrambled every magical core in the vicinity.

"So, I go, Snips or one of the other elves who've sworn themselves takes me to wherever the Muggleborn orphans are. Gotta be a way to track them. How does the Ministry find them anyway?" Riddick looked at the three of them curiously. "How does anyone know they're out there?"

"There's a book," Neville looked at Hermione as if she'd know what he meant. For a moment she drew a blank and then it hit her.

"The Registrar? The Hogwarts list?" She stared at Neville. "The letters... the letters we get inviting us to Hogwarts are generated from the Registrar. If we can get hold of that..."

"Then we'd know exactly where the Muggleborn are," Harry smiled. "It's got to be in the Headmistresses office."

"So who wants to get in so much trouble that we end up in McGonagall's office?" Neville asked wryly.

"Who says we have to," Riddick smirked. "We can't just ask the Hogwarts elves to let us borrow it?" 

Hermione grinned at him in delight. "You're right. We're not going to do anything wrong, not going to hurt Hogwarts or the students. There's no reason we can't."

"Maybe we could just ask them to make a copy of it," Neville suggested. "Or the pertinent pages. We need everyone orphaned, who was born twelve years ago or more. That'll help with the Purebloods too."

"It can't hurt to ask," Harry nodded. "And if they tell McGonagall I can just say that I'm planning on offering scholarships, even if they're unofficial ones. She won't mind that."

"Gotta say though, this escape plan's getting more complicated all the time," Riddick aimed his knife at a teacup and brought it close enough for him to grab, sip and then make a face at the cold tea. Telling it to warm had Harry and Neville gaping but it worked.

"It'll be worth it though," Harry said after he recovered from his shock. "We need to get these kids out of this toxic society. Or by the time they're our age they'll be caught up in another war."

"And if they don't want to come with us?" Hermione felt like someone had to play devil's advocate. "Do we leave them there?"

Harry shook his head, "No. I'll set up accounts for them at Gringotts. Make sure they have enough for Hogwarts and some leftover. It's up to them. I don't know how bad a group home or an orphanage is compared to the Dursleys but they'll at least have a choice."

“Hmmm…” Riddick made a thoughtful noise in his throat and Hermione looked up at him curiously. Her lover was still an enigma in some ways. From his pragmatic views on life she would have expected him to object to Harry’s idea of bringing dozens of children along with them. But Riddick seemed to embrace the idea. He looked down at her and grinned, “Still trying to figure me out sweetness?”

“You have to admit you’re something of a mystery love,” She smiled up at him. “And I think you like it that way.”

“Force of habit mostly, people are afraid of what they don’t understand,” Riddick’s big hand cupped her cheek, thumb stroking over her lips delicately. “Making people afraid of me has been a kind of my default setting for years. They’re afraid, they stay away, they don’t ask questions, and I don’t get hunted down.”

“Were you trying to make me afraid of you, when we first met?” She kissed his thumb as it caressed her mouth and was rewarded with a gleam of affection in his eyes.

“Little bit. Also just really liked that you weren’t. Didn’t fire curses at the sight of me. Didn’t run.” He chuckled, “You are…a rarity.”

“One would have thought you were purposely trying to intrigue me the way that conversation ended.” Hermione teased him gently. “Deliberately putting your back to me and my wand.”

“Best way to get a woman’s attention is to pretend you aren’t interested. Women are like cats that way. Ignore ‘em and they’ll come and poke at you just to make you look.” Riddick grinned at her when she huffed in pretended affront.

“Harry, you get the feeling we should be taking notes?” Neville quipped humorously.

Harry was already writing as if taking meticulous notes, “Women…are…like…cats…” Hermione created and threw a ball of parchment at his head, which halted his tongue in cheek efforts and he laughed. “Hey, it’s good advice. He got your attention.”

“You already have Luna’s attention,” Hermione informed her brother. “You just need to do something about it.”

“Yeah,” Riddick nodded. “Like asking her if she wants to come with.”

Harry took a deep breath. “Yeah. That’s not so easy.”

8888

This time, she knew she was dreaming. The mountainside was so unfamiliar that she knew it couldn’t be anywhere she’d visited before. Mist and smoke rose from the mountaintop and she wondered if it was a volcano or if there was another reason for the plume that touched the sky. Before her the world seemed to spread and glow, fields broken by spears of stone and forests divided by ravines. 

“It was beautiful once. Harsh and terrible but beautiful.” Hermione spun around to see the blonde woman behind her. As she spoke the world seemed to tilt and begin to burn, fire falling from the sky. “A world teeming with life, and death could come just as easily. Our people were strong and the strongest were our Alphas. The greater the pain they survived, the greater their power.”

“Why?” Hermione shook her head, “What made them like that?”

“It is the nature of our people. The nature of this world. As the fire of the smith burns away the impurities of metal and shapes it into the form it is meant to be. Pain survived is fuel for power. True Alphas were few. Fewer still bore the Mark.” The woman smiled slowly. “Such is the way of Furya.”

“You said there were others, other Furyans,” Hermione whispered, amazed that she was seeing the world Riddick came from.

“Lost, chained…scattered to the winds,” The woman nodded. “When it is their time, they will Wake.”

“When?” Hermione looked around. “And will what we’re planning even work? Can we lead an Exodus of Magicals from Earth to Furya?”

“It is from Earth that we all come,” Dark eyes gleamed. “You know His secrets now. You have seen the Wrath. And you’ve taught him to channel it. You have come so close to understanding. Let the blindness fall from your eyes. Sorceress. Mage’s Queen. It is time for you to Wake.”

Her voice echoed eerily in Hermione's ears, "Wake and See."

“Oh my god!”


	14. Chapter 14

Hermione woke up feeling as if someone had struck her with a stinging hex she was that eager to get moving. All the little hints, the details that made sense in her dreams, forgotten when she woke came flooding to the forefront of her memory. Ignoring that it was predawn, she hurried through her morning routine, bundling her hair into a hasty knot as she pushed her feet into her boots. Grabbing her cloak, she nearly ran for the castle entrance, slowing only to avoid the patches of ice in the courtyard and ran down to the Forbidden Forest. 

A Point Me spell gave her the proper direction and she managed to find her way to Riddick’s clearing and his tree. He was crouched defensively under the tree roots and the phrase ‘lying in wait’ popped into her head. There was no way he was as unprepared as he looked. The moment he saw her step into the clearing he stood and shook his head, smirking at her teasingly. “Sweetness, you all right? Damn early for you to be up.”

“I had a dream,” She told him excitedly. “Actually it’s more of a recurring dream, because thematically they were all similar and that’s an indicator—“ 

Riddick’s reaction to her babble was to scoop her up and bring her into his little tree cave, wrap her in quilts and furs and kiss her gently. “Right. You’ve been having dreams.” 

Hermione sighed, Riddick had the ability to calm her down and rile her up at the same time. “Hmmm…the first one, I had it while I was drifting in and out of consciousness after the attack. I was in a land I’d never seen, in a field of mass graves. There were mountains with smoke tops and two moons. And a woman.”

Riddick’s voice had turned worried, “Did she touch you? Hurt you?”

“You know who she is,” Hermione realized as she looked at his grim expression. “Why are you so worried?”

“Because if you’re dreaming of Shirah and she touched you,” He took a deep unsteady breath and held her closer. “It’s her handprint on my chest.”

“She touched my chest, right over my heart, and my belly,” The Witch admitted slowly. “But she didn’t mark me. You’ve seen my body; I don’t have any palm prints.” She cupped his jaw in her hand, feeling the muscles flex with tension. “She said that she Woke you.”

“Yeah, you could say that’s what she did. Woke the Wrath,” Riddick growled. “Hurt like fucking hell and I damn near died the first time it unleashed. Which was right after she ‘woke’ me.”

“She didn’t hurt me love,” Hermione shook her head. “She’s…I dreamt of that world and her, three different times now. She always calls me Sorceress. She says I’m bound to someone, a Mage, which means you I would guess. And she keeps saying that we’ll renew Furya. That it needed a man to avenge it, but a woman to bring it back to life. It’s weird…it’s like… we’ve been talking about finding Furya… but she’s been in my mind all this time…showing me the world. I think there’s something she wants me to understand…but I’m not sure what it is yet. And she says there are more. Other people we need.”

“O-kay.” Riddick clearly hadn’t been expecting that. “She say anything that’ll help us find these people?”

“She said that I know them. Well,” Hermione rolled her eyes. Riddick’s lack of respect for Shirah was a bit contagious. “She said the answers were found within myself. Or something like that. She gave me a couple of names, Sorceress, Brightest of Her Age, Queen of Magi, or Mage’s Queen.” The Witch smiled up at Riddick, “I guess that would mean you, since we’re married by your customs.”

“Well that’s something at least,” Riddick grumbled. “If I hear boyfriend to describe me one more time… I’m not a boy and we’re not friends. Not just anyway.”

She tugged his head down to hers and kissed him, “I know. I’m sorry. It’s only until we find the way to Furya. No one here would believe it anyway.”

His grumbling subsided under her kiss though she could tell he still chafed at being called her boyfriend. “So what other names did you give you?”

“The Chosen. That could mean Harry. The One Who Sees,” Hermione frowned as she remembered last name. “The Fey Lady.”

“So most likely, two men and two women.” Riddick nodded, “Makes sense that the One Who Sees would be Neville. He doesn’t get noticed much but he sees a lot.”

Hermione nodded, “I’m trying to think of who the Fey Lady could be, and the only person I know who qualifies…would be Luna.”

“Well Harry was planning on asking her to come,” Riddick mused. “Wonder if that means Neville’s girlfriend won’t?”

“Or she just isn’t as important to Shirah for some reason.” Hermione frowned, “If there are four of us, two male, two female…there are four cardinal points to a ritual circle. With you in the center maybe?”

“So if you’ve got the exact ideal amount of Witches and Wizards for a ritual, maybe that’s part of how we find Furya.” Riddick suggested.

“I wonder,” Hermione was considering that. “Luna’s father was killed during the war. I wonder if the Rookery is like Grimmauld or Longbottom Hall?”

“Only one way to find out,” Riddick’s hand moved as if to play with her braid and encountered the messy chignon. “First though, can’t have people saying I don’t take care of my woman.” He unbound her hair from the knot and began to finger comb it. “You came out with wet hair? Woman you have no sense in your head.”

“Sure I do. It just…goes…when I have something to do.” She protested weakly.

“Uh huh,” He huffed gently in her ear and began to twist her hair into small braids winding back from her face. “Hope you don’t mind; this is the only way I know how to braid. Let my hair get long when I was stuck on that ice rock. Only way to fuckin’ keep warm.”

“You keep your face and head shaved now though.” She murmured, half hypnotized by the feel of his hands gently stroking and tugging on her hair. “You aren’t cold?”

“You weren’t around to see me back then.” He chuckled, “And I’m vain enough to know I look better this way.”

She giggled, “I can’t imagine you with hair on your face. On your head if you got cold, as long as it wasn’t shaggy, sure.”

“Well maybe I’ll try it for a bit, see what we both think. Honestly, part of it's because of the Slams I’ve been in. Your hair gets too long you could end up with your own ecosystem.” He sounded more than a little disgusted at the thought and Hermione shuddered in revulsion.

“Yeesh.”

“Yeah. Nasty.” Riddick agreed. 

Hermione sighed happily, leaning against him as he braided her hair, his warmth and the exquisite feeling of safety had her nearly drifting into sleep again. Riddick’s mouth on hers brought her out of her doze, his laugh wicked against her lips. “Wake up sweetness. Sun’s over the horizon.”

“Hmm…did you sleep at all love?” She stretched against him, smiling as he pulled her closer.

“Nah. Don’t need much sleep. Played with your hair and messed around with some hides.” He helped her sit up and folded away the quilts and furs he used as bedding. “Like to see if I could get some of that dragon hide. I got this craving to see your ass wrapped in leather.”

Her shocked look made him laugh and he cupped her ass in his hands, pulling her body to his as they stood. “My little innocent,” He teased. “Just as well you’re so covered up when you’re in classes. The boys might get ideas and it’d be a shame to get blood on the floors. The house elves work so hard to keep things clean.”

Hermione could feel her cheeks turn blazing red at his teasing even as part of her found it flattering. “I could always do some Muggle shopping and find a pair of leather pants.”

“Fuck yes. Do that.” He growled, tucking her cloak around her more tightly before he pulled on his coat. “Those boots are damn good though. Shitkickers if I ever saw ‘em.”

“Dragon hide,” Hermione smiled as he wrapped his arm around her and began guiding her out of the forest. “Hungarian Horntail. Harry insisted. They’re my birthday present. Along with a voucher for a bookstore.”

Riddick grinned down at her, “See, even your brother knows you look good in leather.”

“Harry has no idea how my ass looks Riddick.” She poked him in the side, keeping a wary eye out for anyone coming at them over the pristine snow. Even her footprints from hours before were obscured by the wind blowing the snow into small drifts.

“He better not.” Riddick’s growl was a warning and a reminder both, that she was his and no one had better test that.

“He’s not interested in me love.” She reminded him gently. “I’m his sister, in everything but blood. And I honestly think he’d make me his sister by blood if we could.”

“He’s still male and you aren’t related. Which means he’s noticed you, he just put you in the friend/sister zone.” The large man was still half growling. “Why women think that men are capable of being platonic friend with them is one of the great mysteries of the universe. Sex always comes up. Harry just decided that you were more important.”

“Which makes him a good guy and this concern of yours a nonissue.” Hermione retorted. Riddick’s grumbling subsided slightly as they entered Hogwarts but it was clear that he didn’t exactly agree with her.

By now fairly used to his ways Hermione simply looked around the Great Hall for Luna and beckoned for her to join them at the Gryffindor table.

8888

Conversations with Luna never tended to go the way Hermione anticipated. The first thing the delicate blonde did when she sat down was stare at Riddick intently and then smile. “Your Mage is finally opening his eyes Hermione.” She looked at the Witch and her smile grew wider. “And your Wrackspurts have cleared up enough that you’re finally paying attention to your dreams.”

Hermione blinked and stared at the younger girl for a moment. “I suppose you’re right. Though I hadn’t thought of it that way.” A glance at Riddick gave her the impression that he was slightly bemused by Luna’s insight. But then he wasn’t used to many people paying any attention to him besides getting out of his way. She took a deep breath. “Luna, I wanted to ask you a question about the Rookery.”

“Oh,” Luna’s smile tilted a bit sadly but she nodded. “It’s old. Older than the Burrow or the Diggs. Daddy didn’t like how boring the house looked so he made it change.”

“Is it all right now? There was a pretty big explosion when we went to see him,” Hermione asked as gently as she could. “He had a dangerous potions ingredient very close to the stove…and then the Deatheaters…”

Luna nodded, “Daddy was never the same after my mother died.” Her smile faded but reappeared as she answered Hermione’s question. “When I went home after the Battle the Rookery was rebuilding. It’s taking a different form, but I think I’ll enjoy a little cottage with a living roof and clover blooming on it. The rooks can nest there.”

“So it’s like Longbottom Hall and Grimmauld Place,” Riddick’s rich voice was a low murmur. “Tied to the Faery realm?” His eyes were intent upon Luna’s face and anyone who didn’t know him, or didn’t have Luna’s panache with strangeness, might have found that silver gaze offputting.

Luna’s bright laugh rang out through the hall and she nodded, “Of course silly. Where else do you think I would see all the animals Hermione doesn’t think exist?”

Hermione blushed slightly and shook her head, “Luna you know it’s not that I don’t believe you.”

The little blonde nodded sympathetically, “It’s hard for you to understand if you don’t have a frame of reference. I’d be happy to show you some day. I think you’ll like seeing what a Nargle actually looks like.”

The Muggleborn nodded, “I’d like that I think.” She looked at Riddick who nodded and sipped his tea before fixing silver eyes on Luna again. He seemed to be taking Luna and her oddities in stride, as easily as the little blonde witch was taking his, and Hermione found herself smiling absently. It was always nice when two people she liked got along without her having to chivvy them into a cordial relationship.

“Was wondering if Harry’d had a chance to talk to you? About the future?” He pushed a mug of tea towards Hermione in a reminder to eat and drink something and she sighed and took a sip of the morning brew.

“He hasn’t asked me if I’d like to come with the four of you yet,” Luna shook her head with a tender curve of her lips. “But he’s very…shy yet. About his feelings. He still doesn’t think I’d say yes.”

“I think maybe you ought to talk to him,” Hermione suggested. “He’ll need your help. We think Potter estate might also be like the Rookery. But Harry doesn’t know where it is.”

Luna nodded, her usually serene face saddened. “Potters Wheel was destroyed in the last war. That was when his grandparents were killed. But by now the Wheel would have reformed.” She thought a little bit, “The Goblins might know where it is. I thought it was somewhere in Devon.”

Hermione nodded, “That would make sense, that’s where most of the clay deposits are in Britain. Though there are some on the Isle of Wight which is close by, relatively speaking.”

“Could the elves find it?” Riddick wondered quietly. “Or don’t elves talk to each other?”

Luna was staring into space with the dreamy look she got when she was thinking of something particularly difficult. Hermione usually dreaded that expression because it meant Luna would end up saying something that would confound everything Hermione thought she understood. Sure enough, Luna did not disappoint.

“The Hall, Grimmauld and the Rookery should know where the Wheel is.” The fey girl said softly.

“Luna…” Hermione really was feeling out of her depth and she didn’t like it. Riddick’s hand slid up her spine to squeeze her nape and she relaxed minutely. “I…don’t understand.” She admitted finally and with no small amount of irritation.

The younger girl nodded, “Well you wouldn’t. You haven’t grown up knowing your home was alive around you. Muggles don’t build out of living earth. But I’ve always known the Rookery was alive. It’s not the same as we are, it’s…more like a tree than a rabbit. And every tree’s roots touch another's.”

“So you’re saying we could use the three places we know, to find the fourth, like triangulation.” Riddick received a blank look from the Pureblood witch at that, and Hermione admitted privately it was nice to see that Luna didn’t know everything. Riddick just took it in stride and proceeded to explain the process which they’d only briefly touched on in their Arithmancy classes.

Luna nodded afterwards, “In theory that should work. We know where the other three homes are. And if we find Potters Wheel then we’ll have all four cardinal points. We’ll balance nicely, two houses of grey, one light and one dark.”

Hermione frowned thoughtfully, “I know that the Blacks are dark, but which houses are grey and which is light?”

Luna’s laugh was gentle, “Contrary to what Dumbledore always told Harry, the Potters have always been grey. They’re the shadows. The Longbottom’s are Light. And the Lovegoods are grey as well. We stand between the candle and the darkness.”

The Muggleborn smiled slightly, “That’s another thing you should tell Harry. He might feel less guilty about not being perfect if he knew that.”

The petite blonde nodded, “He does insist on being so hard on himself.” 

Riddick chuckled and stroked Hermione’s braids, nuzzling her exposed neck affectionately, “Lots of that going around. Can't think of everything, know everything Mya, nobody's perfect.”

"Not even you?" Hermione teased him gently and was rewarded with a wicked smirk.

"I'm hurt sweetness. You don't think I'm perfect?" She could feel his smirk against her neck as he breathed in her scent.

"Close..." She shivered under his mouth and he chuckled, dark and hungry in her ears.

"I'll take it," His mouth captured hers in a kiss that sent fire through her veins and informed everyone within view that she was his.

8888

The elves that had found them were many and varied in skills and experience. At last count Winky and Kreacher had found two dozen who were willing to take a chance on a new world. They bound themselves to whichever one of the Witches or Wizards, or Mage in Riddick's case, to whom they felt an affinity, and began to help with the Room of Hidden Things.

Hermione was busily searching through the books, grateful one of the elves had experience with libraries. He was an interesting character, the first elf she'd seen to wear spectacles, by the name of Bibs and he'd taken to cataloging the books of the Room with an eagerness that rivaled that of Madam Pince.

Neville's elf Maisie had come back with the news that the elves could move the Hall easily. That any home bound to the Faery realm could easily be 'reset' so that the door opened to a different world. After all, what was bound could be unbound. And at one time the Hall hadn't been bound to the Earth as it's 'front door'. The elves even knew how to do it. That was the good news. Or as Harry called it, 'the pudding'. The 'vegetables' was that none of the elves had any idea how to find a specific world. They could venture across Faery lands and hope, but none of them knew how to find one spot amongst the millions of possibilities.

So now, every waking moment, and a few that should have been spent sleeping, Hermione was pouring through tomes looking for a spell or ritual that would help them find Furya. The Room of Hidden Things needed someone to anchor it besides the elves, so that no one else would come in and try to use the Room of Requirement. So she was using one of the divans the elves had found and cleaned up to sit and deal with piles of books.

The door to the Room opening drew her attention and she offered a hopeful smile as Harry entered. "Any luck?"

He nodded, grinning. "You and Luna were right. It was in Devon. And once each of us linked to the wardstones of the Rookery, the Hall and Grimmauld we were able to pinpoint it."

"And the kids?" Hermione made a note as she shut the book and set it aside before picking up the next. "Riddick said he was going to talk to a few that were in a foster home near London today."

"I just talked to him. He and Snips were going to drop some things at Grimmauld before they came back here. The kids he talked to are going to stay at Longbottom Hall," Harry explained as he took a seat. "Once we found Potter's Wheel Luna and I Apparated over there and found the house. Right now it looks small but it's plenty big on the inside. It has a kiln attached to it though, apparently that's always been part of the house, no matter what form it takes."

Hermione nodded her understanding. "How'd the kids react? Any of them even more freaked out?"

Harry shook his head, "After most of them lost their families...were lucky to escape with their lives, the idea of not having to live in a society that condones that... Riddick said they were pretty grim, but willing to relocate."

The Witch sighed tiredly, "Have you talked to Andromeda?"

It was Harry's turn to sigh. "Yeah. She's willing to come with. I think she could have taken losing her husband, or losing her daughter. But both? She's done. And having Lucius Malfoy free to roam is a bit more than she can stomach. Draco she could handle I think; she doesn't mind him so much. Mostly because he helped you and he was obviously forced into taking the mark. But Lucius is a Deatheater and he's alive. And Andromeda’s husband is dead, because he was Muggleborn."

Hermione shook her head sadly. "I'm glad she'll come with. I just wish it didn't feel like we're salting the earth behind us."

Riddick entered the room and strode straight towards her, picking her up and kissing her hungrily before sitting with her in his lap. "Smell sad sweetness, you all right?"

"Just...making no headway with finding a way to actually find Furya," Hermione leaned against him and let herself just enjoy the feel of his body cradling hers while Harry explained their conversation.

Riddick's hand rubbed up and down her spine as he listened and gave her concerns some consideration. "Don't know that we're really salting the earth sweetness. People here have plenty of chances to change. They can have more kids, they can make new laws, even immigrate to other countries if they need to. They got a whole world. Nothing to stop them fixing things."

"They won't know something's wrong," She shook her head. "They never know when something is wrong."

"That's not your fault. Not your problem either." Riddick reminded her. "You two solved their mess once." He tugged on her braid, tilting her head back so he could look into her eyes, "Unless you've changed your mind? You want to stay and try to fix them?"

Hermione sighed and shook her head, "No. No I don't want to stay." The tense lines around his mouth eased and she traced his lips with her fingertip. "If we couldn't get the laws changed, couldn't change attitudes this year, so soon after the war ended, then we'll never be able to."

Harry spoke up then from his seat in a very ragged overstuffed chair, "Mya, you remember history class in Secondary school? We had to learn about the Roman empire, and how they pretty much took over everything between here and Italy?"

"Of course," She nodded wondering what his point was. "They built roads and aqueducts all across Europe."

"Yeah. And they were so powerful and huge that they couldn't communicate effectively." Harry reminded her. "And they'd been in power so long the government became corrupt. And eventually the whole thing collapsed."

Hermione sighed as what he was saying sank in. "You think this is just...nature taking its course?"

"I think that three wars in three generations without any change to prevent a fourth is madness. And us leaving is just letting Darwinism have a chance." Harry shrugged, "I've had enough of this. You're exhausted trying to find this ritual or you wouldn't even be thinking about it. You're just tired enough that you're feeling guilty about not solving all their problems."

Her laugh of agreement was rueful and she leaned against Riddick with a sigh. "You're right. My brain is just on overload. I'm starting to wonder if anyone has ever even done this before. If it hasn't been done there wouldn't be any sort of ritual or spell for it."

Riddick made a thoughtful noise in his chest and shifted, leaning back with her still in his lap. "Hmmm..." One big hand rubbed the back of her neck, easing the stiff muscles there. "Guess we gotta figure out how to do this ourselves."

Hermione nodded, "We're going to need to lean on your genius with Arithmancy love. It's integral to spell creation."

"Hey, speaking of Riddick and Arithmancy. If Riddick can use magic, how is it that spells don't effect him," Harry asked curiously. 

Hermione shrugged, "We're not sure exactly. But we think it has to do with intent. Riddick's magic knows when a spell has malevolent intent. It automatically...absorbs the spell's energy without allowing it to harm him."

"But you said he took a curse from Ginny meant for you and it burnt him." Harry pointed out. "How could it have hurt him?"

"Made a decision to block the curse with my body," Riddick sounded almost bored. "Knew it might hurt. Figured it was worth it." 

"So because you decided to take what you knew was a curse, it had some effect, just not the intended result," Harry looked at Hermione. "And when you cast spells to help Riddick, warming charms or the one for his eyes, they're intended to be helpful so they actually work. What about when he's asleep?"

"Same thing," The Furyan told him. "Magic's always awake I guess."

"Hmm..." Hermione kissed his cheek. "We should do that ritual I found, before we try to invent any spells. If something goes wrong..." She shivered. "I can't lose you."

"You won't." His growl was reassuring even as he held her closer. "But you're right. No reason to wait on that."

Hermione smiled at him and looked at Harry. "Want to be a witness?"


	15. Chapter 15

Hermione clasped her hands together to keep from fidgeting. The ritual had called for the two of them to bathe, separately. To dress in clothing made of natural fibers, nothing artificial which could distort the magic they would gather. And this was the tricky part, to share blood and body before a witness. Harry hadn't been at all sure about that part.

"I have to watch you do what?" He'd blinked in shock and taken a half step back.

"You have to witness our binding. We are literally giving half of ourselves to each other. Half our souls. The witness embodies magic," Hermione explained. "You probably won't even remember very well. But it's not as if you'll see much of anything. The robes untie and open in the front, and they're full enough to keep us covered."

"Hermione...are you sure...I mean..." Harry was blushing tomato red.

"Who else would I ask? You're my best friend, my brother in everything but blood."

"Well we're going to fix that before you do this ceremony." Harry had declared.

"Fix what?" It was Hermione's turn to be confused. 

Riddick, who'd been sitting back and watching the entire exchange with amusement, chuckled. "He wants to make you his sister in blood sweetness."

"Damn right I do." Harry nodded emphatically. "If you think for one minute I'm going to watch you two go at it like rabbits and possibly see any of your naughty bits when I'm not blood related to you, you're insane Mya. I'm pretty sure just the idea of an unrelated male seeing anything beyond your collarbone drives Riddick over the edge. There's no way I'll be a witness until your mate or husband or whatever is damn good and sure that I don't see you as anything other than a sister."

Riddick's growl of agreement had cemented Harry's argument and he'd had the chief Potter elf Kinsey come and perform the sibling blood binding between the two of them. The binding literally made them blood relatives. Hermione was a Potter and it showed in her skin. She was a shade or two paler than she'd been before, her complexion now a truer peaches and cream, and her hair's unruliness made it spring back from her forehead, exposing her widow's peak and emphasizing her face.

Harry had just grinned at her afterwards and told her that since she was nearly a year older than he was that she was Lady Potter now and that the house elves were sworn to her too. "Just as well," He chuckled. "Potter's Wheel is bound to you now too, so it'll listen to you like Grimmauld will me."

"Oh good grief, now I'm related to the Blacks. And Malfoy." Hermione had groaned.

"Tough luck," Harry shook his head. "If I've got to be your witness and see you, however magic blinded I may be, doing the nasty with Riddick, you have to deal with undesirable relations."

She'd sighed and nodded and been grateful that Harry had agreed at least. She looked around and was grateful that the ritual hadn't called for a natural environment. It was still very cold outside for all that it was supposed to be coming on Spring. So she was pacing outside the Room of Requirement and waiting for Riddick. He'd decided to use the Prefect's bathroom to get ready rather than walk from the Forbidden Forest up to the Room in nothing but robes. 

"Mya, if you don't stop pacing Merlin knows what the Room will turn into," Harry took her arm and gently guided her away from the Room's entrance.

"I don't know why I'm so nervous." She admitted. "It's not as if I don't love him. If something happened to him... Harry...I'd be broken."

"I know." He smiled at her. "When you give your heart, you don't hold anything back. That's probably why he loves you back."

"He...he doesn't...call it that though." Hermione shook her head. "He says he doesn't know what love is. But I'm his and he's mine. And he shows me in a million different ways that he does love me. He just doesn't know that's what he's feeling. And that's all right. Because he feels it. And he shows me."

She turned, feeling Riddick's presence more than hearing him, his magic was flaring, brushing against hers and smiled as he stalked into her sight. The shadows of Hogwarts halls seemed to love Riddick. It never failed that he appeared out of the depths of gloom, silver eyes gleaming as they found her. "Sweetness," He greeted her with a brush of his mouth over hers. His expression was wary, watchful, as if he was waiting for her to call a halt to the entire proceeding.

"I'm not changing my mind," Irritated with his doubt, Hermione poked him in the middle and was nearly rewarded with a sprained finger. Poking Riddick was similar to poking a dragon. "Are you changing yours?"

His nostrils flared as he inhaled her scent and pulled her close, growling into her ear, "Not fucking likely sweetness. You're mine. That's never gonna change."

Harry nodded, now a bit impatient himself apparently, and gestured towards the wall where the door should appear. "So let's go into the room. Riddick, you choose the form it takes this time."

Hermione watched as her lover paced slowly, his brow furrowed in concentration and smiled as the door finally appeared. Harry hurried to open it and get them out of the hallway and stopped a half step into the room.

"Harry, move forward," Hermione prodded him in the back and finally got him moving again. That gave her a good look at what the Room had become and she stared, still moving forward so Riddick could enter and shut the door behind them.

"Where is this?" Harry was still staring, as well he might. In the far distance were mountains with smoking peaks, verdant valleys between them and they stood at the edge of an overgrown wood, looking over a golden field. It was just coming down twilight so while the sun set in the east, in the west the twin moons were rising.

Riddick half smiled, "This is Furya."

Hermione smiled happily, this beautiful, harsh, wild world was everything and yet nothing like her dreams. “Is she here?” The Witch asked her lover. “Did you bring her too?”

“Shirah?” The corner of his mouth twisted upwards sardonically. “She’s here if she wants to be.”

“She’s Furya isn’t she?” Hermione realized suddenly. “She’s the spirit of your world, your people.”

“Our people,” He corrected her with a genuine smile. “Can’t really be sure, she’s…not big on explanations… But yeah, I think so.” He walked with her into the golden field and took her hands in his. “I won’t give you any more chances to back out.”

She smiled at him, feeling fiercely possessive all of the sudden. “Good. Because you’re not going to get any either.”

Then he'd shown that he’d truly studied the ritual and the intent behind it. Riddick had proven in the time she’d known him that he always understood far more than he let on to those around him. His hands untied her robe and parted it, exposing her skin to his lips and her breath caught at the naked hunger on his face. And kneeling before her, his lips and forehead pressed to her belly, he began the ritual. “I bind myself to you, future mother of my children. I ask for the blessing of our worlds and Magic to favor our descendants.”

Fire bloomed under her skin where his skin met hers and she knelt, her knees spread to straddle his. Her movements held more surety than she felt as she untied the simple belt of his robes and opened them. She could hear Harry breathe a sigh of relief that the garments were voluminous enough that he could see nothing of their bodies. Her hand wrapped around Riddick’s genitals carefully, cupping him and pressing her lips to his sternum. “I bind myself to you, future father of my children. I ask for our worlds’ blessings and Magic to favor our children and theirs. May our descendants be worthy of the worlds we will try to give them.”

She’d worn the cords of silk around her neck, and shivered as Riddick’s hand slipped against her skin and drew them gently away. “I take you my heart, at the rising of the moon and the setting of the stars.” His voice was low and rough with some emotion as he wrapped the cords around her wrist and she in turn wrapped them around his. “To love and to honor through all that may come.”

Hermione took the cords from around his neck and bound his wrist to hers, “I take you, my heart, at the setting of the moons, and the rising of the sun. To love and to honor, through all that may come.” His hand echoed hers, winding the cords around her own wrist now.

His body was hard and ready against hers now, their skin heated with need as magic and desire built around them. Her breasts brushed tantalizingly against his chest and somehow she could feel his need to press more closely to her for more of that softness. His free hand had slipped inside her robe, hot and possessive against the base of her spine. She could feel his heart pounding under her fingers, magic gathering in the palm print beneath her hand. “Entreat me not, to leave you, or to return from following after you. For where you go, I will go. And where you live, I will live. You hold my heart and my soul within yours. I will die before I willingly leave you.”

She stared up at him, mesmerized by his eyes, his expression. If she’d ever doubted he loved her she had only to remember this. Trembling against him with the force of the heat and magic rising within her, she managed to speak her words. “As the night has a thousand eyes and the day but one, you are the Light of my Life and I will not be parted from you. Your people shall be my people. Where you go I will go. Where you live, I will live. I would forfeit my life rather than freely leave your side.”

His nostrils flared and she knew he could smell her need, matching his, and lifted her over him, sliding against her. She couldn’t keep from moaning as he entered her slowly, carefully, until she’d taken him in entirely, her body aching and tight with desire as he filled her. Hermione’s breath caught as her entire being centered on where they were joined in body, on this perfect union. Riddick’s voice was a low, thunderous growl of need as he incanted the next part of the ritual his cock flexing hungrily inside her. “You are Blood of my Blood, and Bone of my Bone. I give you my Body, that we Two might be One. I give you my Spirit, ’til our Life shall be Done.”

Hermione shuddered as he flexed inside her again, his mouth falling to her shoulder and pushing the robe out of the way, biting down on her mark again, tasting her blood to make her his again and the Witch felt her magic flow into him. “You…are Blood of my Blood and Bone of my Bone. I give you my Body, that we Two might be One. I give you my Spirit, ‘til our Life shall be Done.” Giving in to the building need she rotated her hips against his with a moan. And following an instinct she didn’t even understand she bent her head and fixed her mouth to his neck and shoulder, biting down hard, until she felt his flesh part and tasted his blood in her mouth. She felt the flood of his seed fill her just as his magic flooded her mouth and screamed against his flesh as she came.

But he wasn’t done with her, and neither was the Magic, not with either of them. The words seemed to spill out of their mouths in perfect unison, the ritual binding them tightly as their bodies moved. Riddick put her on her back, his robe pooling around them both as he covered her body with his, hips slamming into hers in a rhythm as old as their race. “You are Mine and I am Yours. Forever will we be Bound, One soul in Two bodies. Our Magic shared, halved and doubled. Through all our lives together, in all our lives, may we be reborn that we may meet and know and love again, and remember.”

This time, the magic and pleasure built and built, until she was writhing under him and Riddick was growling in need, his mouth hot on hers. She could feel it, their Magic, touching just as they were, deep inside her, an irrevocable change taking place. Riddick cried out, tried to lift his body from hers but she wouldn’t allow it, her free hand possessive and tight on the back of his neck. 

Her lover shouted again, this time in pleasure and Hermione lost herself to it, barely registering the pulsing flare of ghostly blue light surrounding them in a burning bright nimbus as they reached the peak together.

Dimly she heard Harry, speaking a Blessing, acting as Witness, Shirah’s voice echoing his. The words of it were lost to her, Magic and Blood still pounding in her ears, Riddick’s body heavy on hers.

Finally, her head cleared enough that she could reliably think again and Riddick was carefully sitting up and pulling her up with him, keeping her body hidden from Harry and Shirah. Hermione stared at the apparition, who looked no more solid here than she had in Hermione’s dreams. Riddick’s hands were holding her protectively close to his body as he also stared at Shirah.

“You have naught to fear from me Mage of Furya,” Shirah’s expression was pleased and triumphant. “You have bound the Sorceress. A remarkable achievement. A strong female for the last Alpha Furyan. You, and the others you have gathered, will renew Furya and rebuild our race.”

“I didn’t do it for Furya,” Riddick growled at her. “I did it because she’s my woman and I won’t lose her. Won’t let her lose me.”

“But Bound you are, right and tight, and you are as you are meant to be.” Shirah faded away, having successfully gotten the last word and Riddick cursed long and loud.

Harry chuckled and Hermione shook her head, “Love, we learnt a long time ago, arguing with ghosts is pointless. They always get the last word.”

Riddick’s expression was so disgruntled that Hermione started giggling and didn’t stop until Riddick started kissing her again. At that point Harry left, muttering about not wanting a better look at things he shouldn’t be seeing.

8888

Their first indication that something had changed was when a spell came out of an alcove in the hallway and slammed into Hermione with enough force that she should have hit the wall. When the orange magic simply hit her and dissolved without any pain or curse symptoms as a result Hermione blinked in surprise. Riddick growled and stalked towards the alcove, dragging one of Ron Weasley’s girlfriends out from behind the tapestry.

A flicker of his hand and his bone knife appeared. The girl he was currently holding by the scruff paled and urine puddled at her feet at the sight of the weapon. Riddick rolled his eyes and flicked the knife, silver Griffin emerging from the Furyan wand and pawing the stone floor proudly. “Go and get McGonagall,” He instructed it and the silver chimera flew off towards the Head office.

Hermione drew closer, standing at Riddick’s back instinctively and cast her eyes around the hallway, something teasing the edges of her vision. “Riddick… have a look around. Is there someone else here?”

He lifted his silver gaze from the cringing student he’d captured and looked around the hall. “House elf cleaning some armor. Nobody else that I can see.” He gave her a warm look, “We’ll talk more about that later.” 

McGonagall came hurrying towards them, the older Witch seemed slightly out of breath though she collected herself before she reached them. “Mr. Riddick, Miss Granger,” She regarded the Gryffindor student Riddick was holding and the puddle of fluid beneath her with an expression of distaste. “Miss Perry, exactly what have you been up to.”

“I didn’t do anything,” The little brunette protested. “I was sitting in the alcove reading when he reached in, grabbed me and then pulled out that awful knife. Make him stop Headmistress. He’s threatened me.”

“Left her wand alone,” Riddick’s voice was flat and cold. “Remembered you said a broken wand is useless in proving what spells its cast.” He nodded at the wand in the girl’s hand, forgotten in the face of Riddick and his curved bone blade. 

“That is correct Mr. Riddick, and I thank you for the foresight,” McGonagall’s replied in crisp tones. “Miss Perry, your wand. Right now.”

“Why?” The girl retorted snippily. “It’s my word against his. And he’s nothing but a strange sort of Muggle trying to interfere in witches’ business.”

“No,” Hermione interjected. “It’s your word against Riddick’s and mine. And I know exactly what spell it was that hit me. That it had no effect doesn’t change the fact that you cast it.”

“It’s still your word against mine, he doesn’t count. He’s just a Muggle.” The seventh year turned up her nose at Riddick.

“Scourgify,” McGonagall murmured and relieved the girl of her wand. “Priori Incantatem.” The ghost of spells cast began to float off the girl’s wand in reverse order of casting. The first of them was a nasty version of the Stinging Hex which would cause Hermione’s face to swell and her skin to split painfully.

Professor McGonagall frowned fiercely at Yolanda Perry. “Magic in the hallways is forbidden as well you know Miss Perry. And to cast such a spell on a young woman who has done nothing to you… Detention with Professor Slughorn for the next two weeks and detention with Hagrid for two weeks after that. I will not have bullying in my school Miss Perry. Your wand will remain in your Head of House’s possession when you are not using it in class for a period of two months. I suggest you use the time to determine a worthwhile use of it.” Her contempt for the Gryffindor girl’s actions was obvious. “Furthermore, Mr. Riddick may well be a Muggle, but he is a person and as such his opinion and word is no less valuable than yours or mine. Considering what little of his history I know he showed remarkable restraint in his actions. Two of the Death Eaters that attacked him died under his blade Miss Perry. You owe he and Miss Granger an apology and you will give it. Now.”

The last word came out as a snapped command and the girl sulkily offered a clearly half hearted sorry in response. The Headmistress shook her head and tucked the girl’s wand into her sleeve. “Go to the Potions classroom and begin whatever task Professor Slughorn assigns you. I believe he particularly dislikes dealing with beetle eyes.”

Hermione watched as the girl slouched away, and looked at her former Head of House. “I am sorry Professor. I seem to attract trouble.”

"You and Mr. Potter both Miss Granger," McGonagall said not unkindly. "Now, I believe you have a class to attend? It would be a shame to miss it. Mr. Riddick is making such progress with his spellwork." Her eyes sparkled humorously when Hermione stilled in surprise, "Miss Granger, I'm not Dumbledore but neither am I completely unaware of what occurs within these walls. And Mr. Riddick's Patronus was excellent." She sniffed derisively, "Just a Muggle. Hmph."

She shook her head and gestured for them to continue on in what was a clear but polite dismissal.


	16. Chapter 16

It wasn't until evening that Hermione and Riddick were able to get some time to themselves. A glance at Riddick's face, set like stone, had told her better than any cautionary word that discussing the matter at dinner was a bad idea.

The Room of Hidden Things was looking rather barren, clear of dust and many of lost belongings that weren't beyond repair. The elves had cleared out the cursed items first, taking them to Gringotts for sale or destruction. Things like clothing and furniture were stored in the attics of their family homes. The elves associated with each House were going through those attics and organizing them in preparation for the move. Andromeda and Teddy had moved into Potters Wheel and the older witch was working with the house elves to determine what sorts of teaching materials would be needed in the future.

Bibs and Kreacher had gone through every book found in the Room and with the help of the other elves catalogued every library in each House. According to Andromeda and the old Hogwarts syllabus they had plenty of textbooks and reference works, some of them for classes no longer taught, such as wandcraft and enchanting. Unfortunately, none of them had contained a ritual designed to navigate Faery in search of another world.

Hermione wondered absently as she looked around the nearly bare room if anyone had noticed the massive amounts of raw materials Harry was purchasing. He and Neville had taken Riddick aside at one point and spoken very seriously about what they could expect of Furya. Her lover hadn't been able to tell them much but what he had shared sent her two friends into a frenzy. They'd talked with the elves and learned that the elves could make nearly anything if they had something to work with. Snips was excellent at metalwork but he needed metal to begin.

So Harry and Neville were buying up quantities of wood, metal, fabrics and most importantly, foodstuffs. They were becoming obsessed with making sure every conceivable need would be filled. And nearly emptying their vaults to do it, despite the sizable sum of money the Ministry had settled on them at the end of the war. Compensation for what they'd done, and as they'd later learned, an incentive to not interfere with the way the world was being rebuilt. The boys had told her to hang onto the gold she'd been given, in case something was needed later. As Harry pointed out, it wasn't like he didn't have the money.

Luna had taken their manic preparations in stride, helping where she could and pointing out that they'd need livestock as well as vegetables and grains. She seemed to know what they were doing without anyone needing to explain, but then Luna was like that. Morag had been more than a little displeased with Neville's preoccupation. His attempt at an explanation had fallen a bit flat. The mere suggestion of Neville avoiding politics and possibly withdrawing from the Wizarding World had Morag threatening to break up with him.

Neville, stout hearted fellow that he was, had simply bowed and informed her that he was sorry for her decision but he had to live his life as he believed was right. Not according to the expectations of others. Now Morag gave him icy looks across the Great Hall at mealtimes. She wasn't attacking Neville, or his friends, but she was displeased and made sure Neville knew it. Though she did make a point of being polite to the rest of them. Hermione was grateful for that, Morag was a nice girl, just really irked with her ex-boyfriend.

Icy looks were something they were all used to at this point. Between Morag, Ron, his flavor of the week, or day, and the children of Deatheaters the air in the Great Hall practically crackled with hostility. After Ginny had been confined to the hospital wing Ron had seemed to take her absence as incentive to renew his hostilities towards Riddick and Hermione. Though he didn't usually act during meals, having at least learned in seven plus years of schooling to not engage in hostilities under the teachers' eyes, his glares were enough to put anyone off their food.

Neville had commented gloomily that it was no wonder they all wanted to get out of the limelight. Riddick had nodded, adding that it was like living under a microscope. That had drawn a blank look to their Pureblood friend and now they did their best to pass the time at meals explaining non magical technology to Neville and any other Pureblood who was interested. Which mostly meant Luna.

Hermione sighed as she sat down on the chaise she and Riddick had claimed and couldn't help smiling when her lover picked her up and sat down with her in his lap. "Sweetness, you all right?"

No one would ever guess the depth of concern he felt for her from his behavior in public. She was a strong, independent woman and he treated her as an equal. To that end, he wasn't ever overbearing, ignoring her opinions or decisions to override them with his own the way so many boys of her acquaintance did. He might be protective but he watched her back and she watched his. In private though, his hands constantly reached for her, seeking tangible reassurance that she was real. When she'd asked him about it, he'd given her a twisted smile. "Got too many nightmares fucking with my brain sweetness. Lost everything. Still can't quite trust that you're here. Mine."

She'd done her best to reassure him as to her affections and presence. But in private Riddick was more relaxed when they were touching. And it wasn't as if his embrace was a hardship.

"I'm…" She tried to answer his question. "I suppose I'm just thinking of everything we have to do. Everything we've done… it doesn't seem like enough, but I know it's all pointless if we can't find a way to Furya."

His voice was warm in her ear and never failed to send her shivering. "Not for nothing sweetness. Can still use everything to go somewhere else, just have to stay in this system. And we could still find something." Riddick's big hand stroked down her braid, "'Bout what happened after class this afternoon…"

"That was interesting." Hermione nodded. "Now I know what you mean about runes glowing purple and seeing the house elves. It's odd but not hard to get used to."

"Glad you seem to have picked up the energy transmutation thing I've got going." Riddick's arms tightened around her. "I like that curses won't hurt you."

"I've gained a lot from our bond," Hermione nodded. "I feel like I've gained so much but you haven't received anything from me."

"Hey I've got you don't I?" Riddick reminded her sharply. "Didn't go into this so I could get any better at magic shit. Bound myself to you because you're mine and I'm not gonna lose you. And you won't lose me." He kissed her fiercely and when she was practically purring and relaxed in his arms almost smirked down at her. "Think I did get something though."

"Hmmm?" She was still a bit dazed from his kiss as she looked up into those pewter eyes.

His smirk widened to a grin, "Control." She must have looked confused because he elaborated. "Hardest thing about learning to use spells is controlling the amount of power I put in them. Makes sense, the elves call me the Wild Magic Mage. Still isn't magic exactly like yours but now I just know how much to push when I do something like that Patronus."

Hermione frowned, thinking that over, and Riddick shrugged. "Wrath's always been unpredictable. Goes off emotion rather than intellect. Being bonded to you seems to give me a better understanding of how to use it. Like you've given me some sort of filter or translation for working with it."

"But there's no difficulty in using it? You still don't feel as if you need specific movements or phrases to work a spell?" The witch asked in concern.

"Nah," He grinned at her. "Still comes easy. Just doesn't always come in a flood if I don't want. Can do a light spell as soft or bright as I want now. No near blinding myself."

Hermione nodded her understanding. "That must be something of a relief."

"Well it's handy." Riddick responded with his usual gift for understatement and changed the subject. "Gonna go to the last foster home we found tomorrow. Get the kids moved if they want. Figure after that... use the rest of the school year to lay in the remaining supplies and research what sort of ritual we're gonna need to get home."

"I'll come with you if you don't mind the company," She offered quietly. "I've gotten all my assignments done so I have the time."

"That'd be good." He nodded and kissed her hungrily. "After we get the kids settled, need to take a look around Potters' Wheel. Harry said something about the house being keyed to you?"

"It needs me to bond to the house and the land," Hermione explained. "Harry's strong but he can't anchor two estates. As I understand it he'd be like a rubberband, bouncing between the two of them and getting no where, with an equal bond. It's not like the Blacks were vassals to the Potters so the bond is structured in hierarchy." She shuddered as his hands pushed her clothing aside, his mouth on her skin making it difficult to talk or think.

"Rubberband huh," Riddick's mouth paused in its hungry exploration of the tender skin of her neck. "Remind me, wanna get back to that thought." He turned, putting her beneath him on the couch and made very clear with his lips to what exactly he was giving his current attention.

8888

Hermione took a deep breath as she entered the common room. With his usual tact and charm Ronald had managed to convince half their house that she was a traitorous bitch who'd cheated on him with 'Riddick the Muggle'. The other half of the house seemed to be withholding judgment, with a select few supporting Hermione in the belief that Ron as an ass. Additionally, rumors were flying about Riddick and the possibility of him not being quite so Muggle as everyone had thought.

One of her dorm mates inadvertently had a good look at Riddick when he'd walked her to the Gryffindor's tower entrance. It had been her first time seeing Hermione's 'boyfriend' up close and the Half Blood had obviously not been accustomed to muscles and height wrapped up in an attitude of 'I don't give a fuck'. He'd had Hermione enfolded in his arms, pressed against the wall, his mouth on hers and when her dorm mate had stopped and stared Riddick had growled at her.

Lavender had squeaked and Hermione had begun laughing against her lover's mouth at the sound. Riddick had, very reluctantly, let go of her and promised he'd see her at breakfast. Hermione had walked into the tower with the biggest gossip in Hogwarts and thanks to Lavender many of the girls in the school completely understood why she'd choose Riddick over Ronald.

Sadly, not everyone saw Riddick's appeal, most of Ron's 'allies' only saw her lover as a Muggle and her as a Mudblood. So some caution upon entering the Gryffindor common room was the norm for her these days. With Neville and Harry doing their own work to prepare for what Neville had started calling 'the Exodus', they weren't always in the tower before curfew.

"What's the matter, boyfriend got tired of you early tonight," Ron called from across the room. "Guess once you have to live up to all your teasing there isn't much there."

The witch rolled her eyes and ignored her ex-friend, taking a seat near the fire and taking out her books to do a little studying before she became too tired to stay awake. Absorbed in one of her history reference texts her only indication of the passing time was the dying of the fire and gradual reduction of noise in the common room. A frisson of foreboding had her looking up warily out of the corner of her eye.

Ron was standing over her with a glare, one of the ugliest looks she'd ever seen on his face. "You think you can just ignore me?"

Hermione sighed and stood. If she'd learnt anything over the years, it was to always meet a bully standing up. Ron had a habit of trying to use his superior height to intimidate her. "Ron I don't care about you anymore. You called me names, had your girlfriend attack me, and I've done nothing to deserve any of it."

"You led me on!" He bellowed at her. "We were supposed to get married! But no, that's not good enough for you. Not for the Brightest Witch of Her Age. You're a witch and you're supposed to do things like we do. But no. That's not good enough for you. You want to do things like Muggles."

"I'm Muggleborn." She snapped back at him. "Why should I settle for marrying someone I don't love just because you expect it? I was raised to be more than some idiot man's wife. My mother has a career. Why shouldn't I? Because I was born a witch?"

"Yes! This is our world! You need to fit in and do things our way!" His freckles nearly blended into his skin Ron was turning so red with anger. "You can't go around and act like we're not good enough when you're the one who doesn't belong!"

It was one of the rare times in her life that Hermione actually saw red. "Go to hell Ronald! I belong here because I'm a witch. That makes this my world. That doesn't mean I stop having a brain or a personality. I'm not going to turn into one of your little Witch Weekly clones just because you're uncomfortable with the idea of a woman with a mind of her own." She began to stack up her books and shove them in her bag, knowing that if she didn't leave she might just punch him. "And I'm not going to stand and listen to you rant and rave because you didn't get what you wanted."

"Yes you will. You fucking owe me. All that time I wasted, waiting for you to grow up, waiting for you to be ready. And then you just give it up to some Muggle nobody living in the woods? You owe me," Ron's hand clamped down on her shoulder in a hard uncomfortable grip.

His hand, dangerously close to her neck, sent panic and rage spiraling through her in a way Riddick's hands never had. Her magic, already crackling like static electricity over her skin, snapped and threw sparks as she tried to push him away. "Get off me!"

"Fucking bitch," His other hand raised and came down hard across her cheekbone, the pain of it nearly blinding her for a moment. She stumbled and across the hearth, feeling the corner of the stone sharp across her back and shoulder and then he was on her.

"No!" Her shriek of rage and fear had half of the house racing for the common room just in time to see a demonstration of Hermione's wandless magic throwing him off her body and across the room, pinning him to the wall.

"Mudblood bitch!" He sputtered and raved as she picked herself up, trembling hands trying to tug her torn blouse back together.

Lavender took in the situation with a glance and started snapping out orders, sending one of the prefects for McGonagall and the other to find their new head of house, Professor Carthage. Hermione took a moment to cast her Patronus, telling it to find Riddick, that she needed him.

The teachers arrived at roughly the same time, Riddick on their heels, and he must have sprinted from the Forbidden Forest up to the tower to arrive so quickly. He took one look at her torn clothing, the bruise forming on her swollen cheek and turned to look at the boy she'd kept pinned to the far wall. "Give me one good reason he shouldn't die for what he tried to do," Riddick snarled at Professor McGonagall.

"Right now we don't know what he tried to do," The Headmistress was clearly trying to stay impartial and factual. "Miss Granger, if you will allow the memory to be copied? It will spare you the repetition of the events."

Hermione nodded and concentrated on the memory, beginning with her entry to the tower and ending with Lavender snapping out orders to the prefects. A glass vial suitable for bottling potions served as a container and she handed it to the Headmistress silently, her eyes fixed on Ron.

"Miss Granger, could I prevail upon you to release Mr. Weasley?" Professor Carthage inquired.

"No." Hermione replied flatly. Riddick's silver gaze snapped from the boy to her and in three long strides he was at her side, one arm carefully sliding around her waist, snarling as she winced at the pressure on her back.

"Miss Granger, be reasonable," Professor Carthage remonstrated. "He can do you no harm while the Headmistress and I are here."

Hermione took her eyes off her former friend for a moment and frowned at her teacher. "He stays there until you and Professor McGonagall and his parents and the DMLE see that memory. So if you want him down then you'd better see to those conditions. I can keep him there for a week if I have to. I won't even miss class."

"Miss Granger-"

Whatever the professor had been about to say was buried under the commotion of Neville and Harry arriving in the Common room. Neville looked at Hermione and nudged Harry who was glaring at Ron.

Hermione had only seen Harry look quite so angry a few times before but if Neville hadn't kept a strong hold on her brother's shoulder and talked very quietly and firmly in his ear she was fairly certain Ron might just be dead. "Headmistress McGonagall, exactly what has happened to my sister, Lady Potter?"

That announcement got a few gasps from their audience and a lot of murmuring. Hermione sighed. There would be speculation all over the castle and people conveniently forgetting the sister part of that proclamation.

"Miss Granger has provided me with a memory for a pensieve," McGonagall told him with quiet dignity. "I believed it would be better to view the memories of the two people involved in the incident rather than subject Miss Granger to questions when she needs medical attention."

"And Miss Granger refuses to let Mr. Weasley down from the wall," Professor Carthage added in exasperation.

"Not until Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Professors McGonagall and Carthage view my memory," Hermione added. "That way we'll know exactly where he is. And he can't do anything else. I've stuck him there and used Langlock on him." She knew her voice sounded cold and distant and the more reasonable part of her recognized it as a symptom of shock.

Apparently Riddick recognized that too because he scooped her up into his arms, muttered a gruff but sincere apology when she winced at the pressure on her back and began to carry her out of the room. "She's in shock. I'm taking her up to the medical wing." He informed McGonagall flatly. "You'd better get his parents here and look at that memory tonight. Because if he's here in the morning I won't bother to fuck up his magic, I'll just gut the little prick and string him up with his own intestines."


	17. Chapter 17

Unhappily, the infirmary hadn't changed from her last sojourn within its confines. Madam Pomfrey had her familiar frown of distaste as she cast the diagnostic. “What happened here?”

Hermione glared at her when the nurse’s gaze fell upon Riddick as if blaming him for her injuries. Madam Pomfrey had always been protective of her patients but she'd never been this judgmental before. It was very odd and the witch mentally bookmarked the thought so she could come back to it later. “Ronald Weasley happened.” She said flatly. “He assaulted me in the common room tonight.” She fumbled for Riddick’s hand, grateful when he gasped her cold fingers and began to chafe them between his hands in order to warm them.

“She’s on the verge of going into shock,” Riddick snarled the words out. “What the fuck kind of school is this? Lost count of how many times my woman’s been attacked since I’ve known her.”

“And you see no correlation between the two?” Madam Pomfrey retorted in annoyance. “Those who embrace violence meet violent ends.”

“How dare you,” Hermione stared at the witch. “I've been attacked in this school every year I've attended because of my birth. Riddick has nothing to do with it. He and I are bound, sworn to each other.” She jerked her sleeve up to show the binding runes in silver and gold around her wrist, runes that were echoed upon Riddick's toffee skin. “He’d never hurt me.”

“He has no business here,” The nurse insisted, her mouth pinched with distaste. “He’s not a proper wizard. You’re one of the brightest and best students this school has had in years and you’ve thrown yourself away on a man without magic and no education or means.”

“Fuck you,” Riddick’s voice was low and cold with fury. “Who the hell are you to talk to her that way? Hermione makes her own choices. She’s a grown woman. And I’ll send you straight to hell if you think you can keep on treating her this way. You’re supposed to be a nurse. Take care of people. All I’ve seen you do is get pissed about me being around her.” His hands never stopped their gentle chafing of her cold skin despite his anger.

“She’s better than you,” Pomfrey’s tone was near glacial it was so chilling. “She deserves better than being attacked because of your presence at her side. She deserves someone who’ll support her and help her. Not a violent, vile…knave who simply brings more horror and rage into her life.”

“Enough.” 

Pomfrey jerked in surprise at the new voice though Riddick gave no indication that he’d been unaware of the infirmary’s other occupant and Hermione had seen another source of magic when they'd entered the room. Ginny Weasley emerged from behind the screens around her bed and glared at Riddick and Madam Pomfrey impartially. “That’s quite enough.” She stared at the nurse. “Hermione’s been beat to hell and back and it’s obvious that Riddick isn’t the one who did it. My idiot brother is the culprit.”

“Miss Weasley you should return to bed,” The nurse ordered imperiously.

Ginny rolled her eyes, “Really? Why? There’s nothing wrong with me physically. I’m just fucked in the head thanks to that damn diary, my mother and the almighty Dumbledore saying I didn’t need any help.” She sat on the end of the bed and looked at Hermione. “Ron always was an idiot. He gets something in his head and there’s no changing his mind about how things will be. How he can be so brilliant at chess and so stupid about everything else I’ll never understand.” 

Hermione sighed tiredly and nodded, “I did try. I would have been happy to remain friends. But he was just so…”

“Pig-headed, stubborn, or idiotic?” Ginny offered dryly. She shrugged and looked up at Pomfrey. “Madam Pomfrey, just fix her up so she can go to bed. It doesn’t matter what you think of Riddick. It doesn’t matter what anyone thinks, except Hermione. And she loves him.”

“He’s not good enough for her,” Pomfrey insisted even as she began to wave her wand in verification that the bruises were Hermione’s only injury. A frown of concern twisted her mouth and she summoned several potion bottles changing conversations mid-stream. “Take this one first. You’ve a chip in one of your vertebrae.” She jabbed her wand point down towards Hermione’s spine. “I’ve removed the chip. You should remain calm and quiet until the Skelegro works.” She waited until the witch had drunk the foul tasting bone repair mixture and handed her another two. “This will accelerate healing on the bruises. And this one is for the pain. Take the one for pain last.”

She glared at Riddick. “You may remain but you cannot jostle or move her in any way. Even if it is only a chip I’ll not risk damage to her spinal cord.”

Ginny watched Hermione anxiously until the Muggleborn had drunk all of the potions and then resumed her conversation with the nurse. “It doesn’t matter if he’s not good enough for her. Hermione chose him. Who would you rather she end up with? Ron? Anthony Goldstein? Or some other Ravenclaw who won’t notice when she hasn’t eaten in two days because she’s studying? A Hufflepuff who can’t stand up to her? A Gryffindor who’ll never understand how important learning is for Hermione? Or a Slytherin who’d respect her and encourage her but never realize she needs physical affection because of how they were raised?”

“But, she’s…that’s…” Pomfrey wanted to argue, that was easy to see. But Ginny had neatly refuted any counter the nurse could have made. 

“She’s Muggleborn and more powerful than any other witch in the school.” Ginny shrugged. “She’s scary smart. She needs someone who can keep up with her, stand up to her, and actually take care of her.” She looked at Hermione and smiled gently, “She’s spent seven and a half years taking care of Harry and my idiot brother. It’s about time someone put her first.”

“Harry—“ Hermione would have argued but she got interrupted.

“Harry’s a good sort. And he argues with you and loves you and he tries to keep up with your brain, but he’s your brother.” Ginny shrugged. “He’d lay down his life for you. Hell, he did. And he wants to take care of you but he’s your brother. Everyone in the school could see that.”

Madam Pomfrey frowned as she looked at Riddick, “I don’t think you’re good enough for her. I don’t see how any Muggle could possibly understand what a witch like Miss Granger needs in a husband. If you hurt her in any way I swear I will use all of my considerable medical knowledge to see to it that you suffer an eternity of pain and indignity.”

Hermione watched as Riddick withdrew his curved bone knife and flicked it towards the wall, his griffin Patronus emerging from its tip, flying around the room before returning for its instructions. “Go tell Harry that the moron hurt her bad enough that she’s in the hospital wing for the night.” He told it and watched as it flew off through the walls. He smirked at the two astonished witches staring after his very corporeal Patronus. “My woman figured out that you can’t scramble a magical core if you don’t have magic yourself. Wrath is wild magic. Or near as we can figure that it makes no never mind.”

Ginny giggled and shook her head, “Hermione you really got the whole package didn’t you? Tall, dark, handsome, muscles, brains and magic. Ron is going to lose his mind.”

Hermione smiled a bit hazily, the painkiller making her feel fuzzy. “Hmm…and he’s all mine. Acres and acres and he’s all mine.”

"Little prick lost his mind already, attacking my woman," Riddick growled. "Should have known if she didn't take care of him I would." His eyes had darkened to near black and his free hand clenched into a fist, the Wrath pulsing in a slow dangerous beat under his shirt. "Nobody puts their hands on Hermione unless she says they can."

“Be that as it may, you both need rest.” Madam Pomfrey quite clearly wanted to regain control of her infirmary. “Miss Weasley, please return to your bed. Mr. Riddick, if you remain, I was quite serious regarding movement of Miss Granger’s spine. She cannot be moved at all.”

“I can handle sitting in a chair for the night,” Riddick rolled his eyes as Ginny stood and did as the matron bade. He bent down to press his lips to Hermione’s forehead, cheek and gently to her lips and she couldn't help the sleepy smile that curved her mouth before he moved the straight backed chair close to her bed and took her hand. “Sleep sweetness. I’ll be right here.”

8888

“So what happened to you?” Riddick’s voice, to anyone who knew him, was more wary than curious. “Last we saw, you were attacking Hermione during dinner and practically foaming at the mouth.”

Hermione could tell, even half asleep, that Ginny was more than a little embarrassed as she replied. She could practically picture the red head’s blush of chagrin. “Magical therapy… magical mind healing…it’s a lot… well. You have to want to heal. And if you do... It’s very direct. There’s no hiding things from yourself, not once you’ve begun.” She sighed, “I… I knew that something wasn’t right with me, but I didn’t realize that I hadn’t been healthy for a very long time.”

“They said you’d been possessed when you were eleven.” Riddick’s voice was still cautious but he was clearly listening closely.

“A cursed diary,” Ginny explained, “With a piece of Voldemort’s soul inside it. The more I wrote in it, the more of my magic he was able to draw upon. He…tainted me. The darkness he left inside me never seemed to fade. It began to poison everything…the older I grew, the more I wanted, needed…Like always being hungry. That’s the only way I have to describe it.” Her voice dropped to a near whisper. “But if there hadn’t been something wrong with me to begin with, I might never have written in the thing in the first place.”

“You were a kid,” Riddick told her, the factual statement almost kind. “How would you have known?”

“My father told me, never trust a thing if you can’t see where it keeps its brain,” The youngest Weasley explained. “But I felt so alone. Desperate for a friend. I wanted so badly for Harry to notice me. I had such a crush…I was obsessed with him.”

“Yeah, that’s something I don’t get.” His hand was still holding Hermione’s, thumb stroking over her knuckles. “Harry’s said people made a big deal of him. Because he didn’t die when he was a baby.”

Ginny’s laugh was sad, “Yeah, he never liked his fame. I didn’t understand why until lately. Ron’s never understood it. He was always jealous of Harry’s money or fame. But Harry had money because of his family and fame because his entire family was murdered. He wasn’t even two years old and he was orphaned and then left with the worst sort of people.”

“Shit.” The Furyan remarked succinctly. “So he was famous, only a year older than you, a friend of your brothers’…”

“And he shows up at our house in clothes four times too big, broken glasses, exhausted and half starved, and I just…melted. My romantic hero was in my house.” The red head’s remarked sardonically. “Everybody our age grew up with stories of Harry Potter. Everyone knew his name. Every little girl wanted to marry him when they grew up. My mother used to tell me that he’d take one look at me and fall in love. That we’d go to school together, start dating when we were old enough. Harry would be a great triumph at the Ministry and after I finished school he’d propose and I would be the most wonderful wife and mother. We’d live happily ever after.”

“Think I know why you were obsessed.” Riddick offered dryly.

“Yeah, to say the least.” Ginny sighed, “I had no idea how unhealthy that crush was. I might have grown out of it. Realized Harry was a person not The Boy Who Lived, or whatever other hyphenated monstrosity of a title they were calling him that week. But I started writing in that diary and every…insecurity. Every flaw and fault… it was like that thing fed off them.”

Hermione finally felt like she was awake enough to speak, the painkiller potion wearing off enough to release her from its sluggish grip on her brain. “Hmmm… not all your fault Ginny.” She mumbled.

“I’ll get Madam Pomfrey,” Ginny practically flew from her chair and the matron might have Apparated she appeared so suddenly.

The older woman’s wand flicked and swished and jabbed while Hermione did her best to keep still. And finally the nurse was done. “Well, Miss Granger you’ll have a few bruises still. Your deep tissue injuries have been healed as has the skeletal damage but I’m afraid the rest of the bruises will require bruise paste and time. I’ve a pot of the paste for you and I suggest you not strain yourself over the next few days.” She called for a house elf and gave orders for three breakfasts. “I expect all three of you to eat and rest until classes begin. Miss Weasley, your Healer will arrive at his usual time.”

Ginny nodded her understanding and Madam Pomfrey gave them all one of her looks that said they’d better behave themselves, and swept out of the room. 

Hermione pushed herself up in bed and smiled as Riddick kissed her firmly on the mouth, helping her sit up. Ginny fidgeted a little bit, her discomfort palpable, before she looked up and met Hermione’s gaze. “I’m sorry Hermione.” She said finally. “I’m so sorry for how I’ve treated you. I’ve been a right bitch all year and for most of your sixth year as well and you didn’t deserve any of it.”

“Apology accepted,” Hermione nodded promptly. “I just never understood why.”

“Because Harry loves you and trusts you and you two were close, even if it wasn’t how I wanted to be close to him, you were still close. I was so jealous.” Ginny whispered. “I… All I could hear was that you didn’t want to get married right away and then Harry was saying the same thing and how it’s not how you two were raised. And he was listening to you again and completely… dismissing everything I was saying. I was so angry. And Mum just kept saying how after all we'd done for you, you were acting like you were too good for us. That just made me madder. It’s felt like I’ve been seeing red all year.”

Hermione leaned back against Riddick’s chest as he took a seat behind her and nodded her understanding. “That actually makes a lot of sense. You’re not feeling like that anymore?”

Ginny sighed, “Part of me…wishes I’d had a real chance with him. But it’s the part that still wants to believe in Babbity Rabbity and the Hopping Pot, you know? Harry and I don’t have much in common besides Quidditch and my brothers. He wants a big family and a quiet life and I wanted to explore, do things, see more of the world. I want kids but I don’t want a Quidditch team. I want to get married but I don’t want to just stay home and take care of a house. Even if I never make a huge splash at the Ministry or play for the Harpies, I want a life outside of being a wife and mother. I want my life to matter. Harry saved my life, I want it to be worth something.”

Hermione nodded, “Honestly Ginny, that’s the sort of thing I thought you two were talking about when you dated, and during last summer. I was trying not to interfere, and I was also trying to avoid anything that would give Ron the idea that I wanted a relationship with him.”

The redhead shuddered, “Gah. Who could blame you? Except Mum. But unless people agree with her, or are Albus Dumbldore, she won’t listen. She's got set ideas for what's respectable and what isn't and if you don't fall into line she'll nag and lecture you until you do. Why do you think Charlie's in Romania and Bill went to Egypt? Percy wanted the Ministry so he was her favorite until he screwed up. She’s a Prewitt, through and through. Stubborn to the end.”

“What other traits are the Prewitt’s known for?” Hermione asked curiously. “I’ve heard a lot about the Weasleys but nothing about your mother’s family.”

Ginny grinned and the rest of breakfast was spent in a fairly pleasant and safe conversation about different wizarding families and the traits and talents for which they were known.

8888

Hermione approached the Headmistress’s office with no small amount of trepidation. Gryffindor she might be, and brave enough to enter, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t worried about what she’d find on the other side of that gargoyle. Riddick had been informed by Professor Carthage that he was not allowed to accompany her. Harry, as her blood brother and part of her family was already waiting for her in the office. The professor didn't particularly like Riddick and had adamantly refused to hear any argument concerning his presence in the Headmistress's office.

“Earl Grey,” She supplied the password in a quiet voice and stepped onto the stairs with a deep breath. The feel of Riddick’s body stepping onto the stairs behind her startled a squeak out of the witch. “Riddick, they said you couldn’t be in this meeting.” She protested, albeit halfheartedly. 

“We’re bound. Got the runes to prove it.” Riddick’s voice was a low implacable growl. “You’ve got my mark on you. You’re my woman. My wife. I am with you no matter what your head of house says.”

His words echoed around the stairwell and from the astonished, horrified, and resigned looks she received it was obvious McGonagall, Molly Weasley and Harry had heard everything he’d said. At any other time, she simply would have enjoyed Riddick saying she was his; it was something she never tired of. As it was, Hermione summoned up a dry smile, “Well, I suppose introductions are in order. This is Richard B. Riddick. My bonded husband.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Someone commented that Riddick isn't the type to let something like Ron's attack go. I'm so glad that we're on the same page!


	18. Chapter 18

Harry, in a time honored Muggle tradition, had put his fingers in his mouth and given a sharp whistle to grab everyone’s attention. The noise had silenced the rather clamorous exclamations and he’d smiled coldly at Mrs. Weasley, and given the Headmistress a polite nod. “Amazing as it is that Hermione has bound herself in marriage before leaving school, it’s not anyone’s business but hers and Riddick’s. He is her husband and entitled to be here. She is my sister and as the Head of House Potter I’m entitled to be here as well. Especially given Mrs. Weasley’s allegations against Hermione, regarding actions from well before my sister met Riddick.”

“Allegations?” Hermione looked at McGonagall questioningly, very aware of Riddick’s dark voice repeating after hers. He was not pleased. “Mrs. Weasley wasn’t even in the common room. How could she possibly bring allegations against me?”

“She’s been saying you’re a loose woman, that you’ve used Amortentia on Ron so you can control him,” Harry told her quietly. “Professor Slughorn is testing him for any potions in his system and who they might be keyed to, while Ron's stuck to the wall.” Harry’s addendum was delivered with a half grin before he continued more soberly. “If he has been potioned, we both know it wasn’t by you, so any results would be keyed to someone else.” He rolled his eyes and flicked his gaze to Professor McGonagall who was looking extremely put out by the mere thought that Hermione would do any such thing.

Hermione nodded slowly and patted Riddick’s forearm gently. Harry moved away from the wall of bookshelves and held a chair for her, smiling as Riddick moved her towards it, seating her carefully. He and Harry both had made sure the bruised half of her face was facing Molly Weasley. “Be that as it may, Ron still had no right to assault me. He was on top of me, would have raped me, and that was after he punched me in the face and threw me down on the hearth.”

“My Ron would never do something like that,” Mrs. Weasley wasn’t going to hear of any such thing. “You’ve been leading him on for years and now you abandon him for some...Muggle. I've raised you better than that! I can’t believe I took you into my home, treated you like a daughter, gave you a family—“

Hermione didn’t often lose her temper but when she did the results could be spectacular. Interrupting Molly Weasley in the middle of her list was mild in comparison to what she wanted to do. Tearing the woman’s frizzy red hair out so her own chickens could nest in it was simply one option out of many. “I never asked for any of those things. You didn't raise me, my parents did. And they did a damn good job of it. I had a family. A family that was endangered because of the idiocy you Purebloods espoused and then didn’t clean up after two damn wars! How dare you accuse me of entrapping your idiot son when he was completely unlike anyone I have ever dated or wanted to date! He’s foolish, immature, thoughtless and mean spirited and in addition, completely unattractive to me.” 

She stabbed a finger at Riddick. “This is my husband. We are married and magically bound. He’s intelligent, handsome, built like a brick shithouse and treats me with respect. He's kind to me and polite to my friends. I love him. And he loves me. Every other man I’ve dated has been a poor shadow of him. I am not attracted to lanky, loud-mouthed, ill-mannered gingers and I never have been!”

Mrs. Weasley gaped at her for almost a full minute before she began sputtering, only to be cut off by Harry’s quiet voice. “Mrs. Weasley, you may have meant well but Ron and Hermione were never going to work as a couple. Hermione’s never done anything to encourage him. And Ron has never even asked her out on a date.”

“None of which is relevant to why we are here now,” Professor McGonagall interjected. “I have examined the memories Miss Granger provided and they are free of tampering.” She slanted a glance at Hermione. “As Arthur cannot be here to represent his house, William Weasley as his direct heir should be here momentarily.”

Riddick growled slightly behind Hermione, his hand on her shoulder. “Nurse wanted to keep her in the infirmary. Wouldn’t have brought her up here if we’d known someone was gonna be late.”

The sound of the stone stairs moving halted any further conversation regarding Bill’s tardiness. And Riddick’s nearly palpable fury seemed to fade slightly at the sight of the scarred eldest Weasley son, whose greetings faded to a shocked halt upon entering the office. Bill’s reaction upon seeing Hermione’s bruised face was to look from Harry to Riddick and then at his mother before looking back at Hermione. “Hermione, are you… you’re going to be all right?”

She nods slightly, her throat tightening. Bill had been like a true older brother to her ever since they’d escaped from Malfoy Manor. He'd taken the time to indulge her paranoid side, teaching her more advanced wards and curse-breaking techniques after he'd realized she wasn't sleeping properly. He was protective, affectionate and a very good man. Hearing what his youngest brother had done was going to be incredibly hard for him. “I’ll be fine. Madam Pomfrey fixed me up with Skelegro and some pain potions.” 

“But what happened?” He took a seat beside his mother, still slightly bewildered.

“As acting Head of the Weasley House you are required to be present since Arthur could not,” Professor McGonagall informed him in her crisp no nonsense tones. “I’ve procured a solicitor’s pensieve so that we are all able to view the memories simultaneously.” Without any further delay she poured the contents of the vial into the pensieve and the memories began to play, like an old color film greying with age.

Hermione didn’t need to watch them; she’d lived through it after all. She kept her gaze fixed upon the Weasleys and McGonagall, trying to predict their reactions. Riddick’s growl was a low constant rumble in his chest behind her as he watched and Harry was clenching his fists.

When the memory concluded with her leaving the common room Mrs. Weasley, predictably, focused on Ronald’s predicament rather than what her son had done to Hermione. “You mean to tell me you left my boy hung up on the wall for an entire night and half the day!” She began her rant almost immediately. “After all I’ve done for you—“

Thankfully, Bill interrupted before Molly Weasley could begin a full blown Howler rant at close distance. “I’m so sorry Hermione,” His brown eyes were dark and sad. “That is not how he has been taught to behave. I have no excuse for him. The Weasley’s already owe you and Harry more than we could ever repay and Ron’s actions are even more heinous given what you’ve done for us.”

“Regardless of whether or not Miss Granger presses charges, Mr. Weasley is expelled. I will not have him in the school.” Professor McGonagall informed the Weasleys. “It’s not safe for the rest of the students. He’s of age and can study for his NEWTs on his own.”

Mrs. Weasley opened her mouth to protest again and Bill silenced her with a look. “Mum, I love you but you are not the Head of the House. Ron deserves to be expelled. I’ve heard all about the way he’s been acting this year. We’ve paid for him to come back to school and he’s barely passing his classes. Now he’s adding bullying, assault and attempted rape to his sins. Expulsion is the least of what he deserves.”

“Ron’s pulled this type of behavior one too many times,” Harry told Bill grimly. “We will be pressing charges for assault and attempted rape. He might not end up in Azkaban but he will pay for what he’s done.”

Bill’s sad nod of understanding and agreement outraged his mother who immediately began lambasting everyone in the office. Thankfully she didn’t draw her wand, seeming to prefer verbal castigation rather than physical, but by the time Bill lost his temper Hermione’s ears were ringing and she’d learned several new phrases that meant ‘scarlet woman’.

8888

Ronald Weasley was on his way to the prisons below the Ministry. Since he was, according to the populace, something of a war hero, he wouldn't be sent to Azkaban until his trial. Professor Slughorn had done extensive testing and Ron hadn't been dosed with any potions at all. Hermione wasn't exactly thrilled with the result, but it was more than she'd learned to expect from wizarding society. Harry and Riddick though, they'd been furious. The looks they exchanged told her that they would not let Ron's punishment go with simple imprisonment. Hermione sighed as she stepped into the common room and all conversation ceased.

Lavender came forward and, after casting an apprehensive look at a glowering Riddick, gave Hermione a gentle brief hug. “They wouldn’t tell us anything about your injuries. I hope it wasn’t anything serious? Do you need us,” She indicated their dorm-mates, “To remind you to take potions or anything?” A lopsided version of her famously gorgeous smile tilted her lips, “You know, in case you get caught up in your studying.”

Hermione wouldn’t ever have thought that Lavender could be a good friend until this year but the curvy, popular witch had proved her wrong. She might never like make up, clothes or hair styles like Lavender, and Lavender might never love studying or knowledge for its own sake, but they’d found a comfortable balance between the two. “Thanks Lavender but Madam Pomfrey says that the only thing for the bruises is time. She fixed my back up with some Skelegro and I’ll be fine.”

The gorgeous witch looked relieved, “Well thank Merlin. I thought I’d have a heart attack when I saw what he’d done to you. I’m just glad it wasn’t worse.” She slanted a look at Riddick’s forbidding face. “And I’m not the only one, obviously.” She looked around at the gathered students who were pretending they weren’t listening to every word. “You may as well tell them flat out what’s been decided. I guessed that he’d be expelled?”

Hermione nodded, “He is. And he’s being charged with assault and attempted rape. But because he’s a ‘war hero’, they’re keeping him in the cells at the Ministry until the trial.”

There was a lot of muttering and the tenor of it irritated Riddick so much that he growled loudly and glared at the group of students near the fireplace. “Anybody have a problem with my woman saying no when some bastard besides me touches her? Fuckin’ speak up.”

One of the sixth year boys aimed a sneer in Riddick’s direction, “What are you even doing here? Your kind doesn’t belong at Hogwarts. Figures she’d go right back to the dirt she came from.”

“I go wherever I fucking well want,” Riddick sneered right back at him. “You got a problem with that we can see how well you do against the Wrath. I don’t personally care if you can use the magic you got or not.” 

Hermione shook her head, “You’re never going to change their minds love.” She rolled her eyes. “Let me get my things and I’ll come with you. It’s a sad day when Gryffindors behave like cowards.” 

Lavender cast a scornful look at the group of boys and took Hermione’s arm. “I honestly can’t blame you for wanting to date an older man Hermione. Though obviously not too old.” She grinned at Riddick. “Why waste your time on boys.”

Hermione chuckled, “Actually Lavender, Riddick and I have bonded. So technically we’re married.”

That bit of news got a squeal of excitement from the curvy witch that echoed down the stairs of the girl’s dorms and demands to know ‘everything’.

8888

It was with a deep sigh of relief that Hermione set her satchel down in a deserted classroom. Riddick had taken a certain amount of amusement in scaring her fellow Gryffindors with the blue light of the Wrath pulsing under his thin shirt. That the Wrath was glowing at all meant his aggravation with them wasn’t entirely feigned. Between Ron's attack, Pomfrey's disdain and the reaction of the Gryffindors, Riddick was clearly feeling hungry for blood and he didn't seem to be too picky about where it came from. There’d been a collective sigh of relief when Harry and Neville had shown up and acted as willing buffers between Riddick and the rest of their housemates.

Hermione, thanks to the Furyan enhanced hearing she now possessed, had heard most of the shouted conversation and Harry had been uncommonly vocal in his opinions of Gryffindor’s general idiocy. His final word on the matter had been that if Hermione, his blood bonded sister, wasn’t welcome then neither was he. Neville’s next breath had been proclaiming the same. 

Needless to say, Gryffindor was in something of a state. Winky had shown up to shoo Hermione away from her packing and she’d been sent back to the common room with Lavender following. The boys had come down not five minutes later, with similar orders from their elves. “Kreacher says he’s got a place picked out for us. He’s getting some of the elves to configure a couple of bathrooms.” Harry had reported. “Snips’ll show us where once we leave the tower.”

No one had missed Riddick’s possessive arm around Hermione’s waist, or his wicked smile as he flicked his knife and sent a breeze tumbling around the common room, dislodging books and homework until everything was in a jumble. “That’ll keep you nice and busy so you can’t follow us.” He smirked as they left.

Winky and Snips had guided them to a deserted area of the school, commenting that the Headmistress had heard about what had happened from 'the Lavender girl' and had suggested the classrooms as suitable for conversion. The castle elves were to provide any meals requested and no teacher would intrude so long as classes continued as usual.

Now he was looking around the classroom, noting the shuttered windows with approval and shaking his head over the dust on the floor. “Could use a good cleaning. And some furniture. Wouldn’t mind a bed big enough for both of us to stretch out in.”

Hermione nodded and began to ward the doors and windows, tracing runes in the air with her wand and using her hand, palm flat as if bracing herself against the magic. When she was done she could almost see her wards, a network of golden lattices settled against the walls and openings. Riddick was looking at her with renewed respect and it occurred to her that he’d never seen her set wards before. It was something at which she’d gotten very good during the war. “I remembered to add screening for all five senses this time.” She sent him a half grin. “As soon as the boys show up I’ll do theirs too. Girls have tried love potions on Harry before and Neville being the last of his House now that Madam Longbottom has passed…he’ll come in for that type of negative attention as well.”

Riddick’s sensual mouth curved into a smile, “Damn pretty to watch. The class on runes isn’t near as interesting as watching you set up wards.”

She flashed him a grin before transfiguring an old crate into a straight backed chair. “Thanks.” Taking a seat she sighed, “They’re my NEWT project. I checked with Professor Babbling and no one has ever successfully warded against every sense before including magic.”

“So you created new wards?” Riddick sat down on the floor, leaning against the wall, legs stretched out in front of him as he spoke.

“It’s almost impossible to create a completely new ward.” The witch smiled, “I don’t know if mine qualify as new. They keep people out, which is what a lot of wards do. Mine…” She paused thinking of how to best explain it. “Anyone with a sensitivity to magic can tell if there are wards. You go through them and almost everyone feels a tingle. Harry's brilliant at that. He's been my test subject for this project. Mine have a component that’s pure illusion. You can walk through them, or think you are, and you’ll see nothing if I haven’t keyed you to the runes. You won’t smell my perfume, hear me breathing, feel the warmth of my skin or taste anything that would give me away. You won’t even feel the magic tingle. That was the hardest to get right.”

“So now that we’re behind them, we can stay here indefinitely and nobody will be able to find us?” Riddick’s gaze was even more admiring. “I can think of a situation or two where that would have been damn handy.”

“Me too.” Hermione agreed dryly. “It’s taken me almost two years to figure out how to do it. And the wards have to be anchored to runes and powered by ambient magic. Not a ley line or they could be discovered that way. The magic of a ley line would...stutter over the wards. Like a little hiccup that someone with a sharp eye would see or feel in the flow of magic. A ley line node can power them because nodes tend to pulse irregularly.”

His nod of understanding and interested expression encouraged her to explain a bit more of the theory. When she stopped speaking, hoping he hadn’t grown bored, Riddick surprised her by asking her about the Arithmantic breakdown of the wards and how effective they’d be in an area with very little magic.

Their discussion was interrupted an hour or so later, much to Hermione’s surprise since she hadn’t even noticed the time passing, by Winky and Snips popping in with furniture appropriate to Riddick’s size along with Hermione’s belongings. The elves sniffed a bit disapprovingly at the transfigured chair and promptly sent for a couch and chairs to go with the very large bed and wardrobe. A rug and several lamps along with drapes for the windows warmed the abandoned classroom up considerably, along with the porcelain stove Snips propped in the corner near the bed.

Hermione was startled out of her admiration of the elves work by a knock on the door, and looked over to see Riddick letting Neville and Harry in. “All set then?” Harry asked with a half smile. “Kreacher’s got me and Neville in a sort of two-bedroom suite. He and Snips got a couple of bathrooms set up. They used the empty classroom in between this one and ours. Gotta love magic.”

The witch grinned at him while Neville regarded them with the curiously tolerant expression of the city mouse showing the country mouse about town. Harry chuckled at him. “Muggles can’t create bathrooms from nothing Neville. They don’t have runes to deal with plumbing.”

Neville’s expression twisted in horror. “Then how do they deal with it? Where does it all go?”

“Same place it goes with the runes. Just with pipes instead.” Harry shrugged.

Riddick was watching the Pureblood with a wicked grin. “Guess he’s never seen a chemical toilet? Or dealt with an outhouse?”

Neville understood the term outhouse well enough to make another face. “Privies are good for collecting fertilizer but I wouldn’t want the task of emptying the chamber pots.”

The Furyan laughed at him and shook his head, “I guess army life wouldn’t be for you Neville. Nothing quite like latrine duty to humble a man. Or make him determined to not screw up again.”

Harry grinned in appreciation and Hermione rolled her eyes but they both nodded their agreement and Neville shook his head in good humor. “I don’t mind shit when its mixed up in fertilizer,” He said dryly. “But I’d prefer it less fresh and more mixed up with the rest of the compost.”

Riddick just grinned at him and Harry jumped in to save his friend before he found himself learning more than he ever wanted to know about Muggle plumbing in the army. “So I checked with Luna and her family library doesn’t have anything in it about navigating Faery either.”

“What we need is some sort of sextant… assuming we could actually read the stars for direction and position in Faery.” Hermione mused. “We don’t have anything to give us direction.”

“Actually, yeah we do.” Harry nudged her and nodded towards Riddick. “Riddick’s from Furya right? He ought to be drawn to it.”

“In theory,” Neville added.


	19. Chapter 19

Theory was all well and good but Hermione wanted some sort of test run before she sent her brand new husband willy-nilly through the universe to a planet she’d never set foot on. 

“No.” She shook her head. Riddick was grinning at her, that wicked tilt of his mouth the promised mischief, Harry was giving her puppy eyes, and Neville was looking at her with the unblinking gaze of a terminally patient man. “No we are not going to ‘just try it out and see’.” She glared at them emphatically. “Men. If you’re not doing something insanely reckless and dangerous I think you go into withdrawal.”

That got Riddick laughing at least, though Harry pouted and Neville sighed. “It’s not that bad of an idea Mya,” Harry wheedled. “Riddick’s even said if it doesn’t work his connection to you will snap him right back, like a rubber band.”

“We’re not going to experiment on my husband,” The witch shook her head. “We’ll start small. If Riddick is supposed to be drawn to Furya, one of you should be drawn to your lands, since you’re bonded to them.”

“You might want to…lower your voice a bit, or modulate your tone, unless you want to get thrown out of the library,” Ginny’s quiet voice suggested from behind Hermione.

Hermione nearly started in surprise at Ginny’s voice. The girl was quiet since she’d been released from the infirmary. And while she had the same mischievous sense of humor and vibrant personality, it was tempered with restraint. Hermione had heard from Lavender that while Ginny was treated as if nothing had changed the girl herself had. She wasn’t subdued but she’d become more thoughtful. The book she carried with her everywhere was a biblio version of a talking mirror, enchanted to help her maintain the mental health she’d worked so hard to achieve. The very act of writing in it was a therapeutic exercise considering what had happened the last time she’d kept a diary.

The Muggleborn blushed as the youngest Weasley approached the table and smiled at her a bit nervously. “You’re leaving aren’t you?” She asked softly. “You’re all of you leaving. Luna too?” Her brown eyes were dark and sad but resigned as well.

Harry took a deep breath and nodded, “We can’t stay. And when we go, we won’t be coming back. Ever.” He shrugged slightly, “You know nothing changes here.”

Ginny sighed and sat down, “I know. I’m living proof of how the entire magical society lives in denial. Who in their right mind, who hasn’t buried their head in the sand, would think that I’d be perfectly fine after being possessed for most of a school year and then being ignored for seven years after that.”

“Are you…” Neville cleared his throat a bit shyly. “Are you feeling better? Now I mean?”

The red head gave him a grateful smile and nodded. “Classes have been awkward, no one knows what to say and everyone keeps staring. It’s like second year all over again.” She shook her head. “I’m not behind in my classes thankfully. The teachers are pretty much the same but…” She sighed.

“You’re having to live down a reputation you got when you were sick,” Riddick spoke up with a surprising amount of understanding in his voice. “Things you wouldn’t ever do now, that you did then, they make you feel sick and disgusted with yourself. And people react to you as if you’re the same.”

Ginny nodded again, “I just… I’m so angry at my mum, for not even considering that I might need help. And Ron…” Her cupid’s bow lips twisted, “He said if I hadn’t been so stupid to trust that book that I wouldn’t need the help. That it was all my fault in the first place.”

Hermione growled under her breath and shook her head, “I should have castrated him when I had the chance.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw Harry and Riddick exchange another set of looks and resigned herself to hearing of Ronald's demise at some point in the future.

“None of it was your fault Ginny,” Neville patted her hand. “People still have trouble remembering that I’m not a squib. It’s amazing how stupid the rest of the world can be.”

The redhead shrugged, "Well I'm hoping by the time school is done that this will all be old news. I've kept up with my classes and Professor McGonagall says I shouldn't have any trouble with my NEWTs." She tilted her head, taking in the Arithmancy, Enchantment and Spell Creation reference materials. "What are you trying to do exactly?"

Riddick glanced at Hermione and his unspoken question was answered with a shrug. "Your choice love. But no matter her faults, Ginny's never had trouble keeping a confidence."

The beaming smile Ginny gave her was, in Hermione's opinion, completely over the top considering the backhanded nature of the compliment but it was nice to see the girl actually happy for a little while. "Thank you." She smiled and admitted wryly, "I've too often kept secrets that probably should have been told. But when you don't grow up with much privacy you tend to keep things to yourself."

Riddick's lightening grin seemed to startle Ginny as much as Ginny's beaming smile had startled Hermione. "Yeah, one home I got stuck in had nine kids, stupid little four-bedroom house. Three of us to a room, meals were worse than a chow line in the Army and the only one who got anything new was the biggest. He outgrew stuff, the rest of us had to wear hand me downs, but it was better than being on the streets. Not by much, but we got regular meals mostly."

Hermione smiled, "Is that the one with the kid who taught you whittling and wrestling?"

"Yeah, Juan was the third oldest." Riddick nodded. He looked at Ginny, "You might have guessed, I'm not from around here. Not even from this time. I'm from a long ways away and we're trying to find a way to take all of us there."

Ginny considered that, her eyes thoughtful as she studied Riddick. Then she looked at Hermione, "That's why you don't want to make any mistakes."

The Muggleborn knew her tone was a touch irritated as she answered, staring at the three males in the group. "Yeah, it's odd I know but since I actually have someone I love and want to spend the rest of my life with I really don't want him flying off into the wild blue yonder without so much as a parachute and a fare thee well."

Harry sputtered and choked trying to hold in his laughter rather than get kicked out of the library while Ginny and Neville just looked bewildered. Riddick just smirked at her and pulled her into his lap. "I'm not gonna disappear sweetness."

Ginny smiled, "Actually he's not. He can't. You and he are quite literally bound together. That's what a magical marriage is." She rolled her eyes, "The vows are different and you have to have magic that's somewhat compatible but why do you think Narcissa Malfoy never left her husband? She couldn't. And he couldn't leave her."

Neville nodded, "That's why Blaise Zabini's mother has been widowed so many times. She can't divorce the way Muggles can. But she can kill them off. Word the vows right, leave out the obey and honor stuff, and no more husband when she's sick of them."

Riddick was resting his head on Hermione's shoulder as he regarded the two Purebloods. "So our bonds, they mean we can't be apart or we just can't get lost?"

"You can be apart," Ginny explained. "But you're magically sworn to each other. Which means even if Riddick goes flying off into the wild blue...whatever it was, Hermione, you'll know where he is. You'll be able to find him with your magic. It'll be tied to his."

"So if Riddick could Apparate back to Furya, Hermione would be able to find the path there?" Harry mused.

Ginny frowned and looked at Riddick, "Is that a magical enclave in the Americas? I've never heard of it."

Riddick's chuckle was low and rough as he shook his head, "No. Furya's my home planet. I got dragged here magically during your Final Battle. Near as I can tell my world was settled about fifteen hundred years into the future. Don't know how long after that I was born. Long enough for Furyans to get a reputation."

"A reputation for what?" Ginny wondered, eying him curiously.

He grinned and Hermione wanted to kiss him when he grinned like that. Wicked, dangerous and just a little mean. "Mostly for being people no one could keep down. Defiant to the end, a seer described us once."

"Sounds like Hermione." Neville grinned and Harry nodded his agreement.

“Only person I’ve ever heard who could withstand Bellatrix’s Cruciatus curse, lie without end while she’s under it, and come out sane,” The last Potter commented.

"Why do you think I decided to keep her," Riddick gave her hip a squeeze. "Same reason she kept me. I was pissed as hell when I first got pulled here. My woman here didn't take any of my shit, called me on it every time. Kindred spirits I think it's called."

"You ‘think it’s called’." Harry rolled his eyes, "One of these days you'll figure out that we lived through a war Riddick. We're not complete idiots. Or unobservant. You might not talk like us but Hermione's never been interested in stupid guys." Neville nodded while Hermione just turned her head and giggled into her husband’s shoulder as Harry continued. "You're likely Hermione's equal in brains and she's a bloody genius. Scary smart. You might have to dumb things down about Arithmancy and Runes if you want us to understand but don't act like you're hiding how smart you are."

Riddick's hand was rubbing up and down her back as he looked at the boys and Hermione touched his jaw with her fingertips. "He's right you know. I know you like people to underestimate you, but you don't have to hide from us."

Ginny giggled suddenly, "Half the school thinks Hermione married you for your looks anyway." She pointed at the books. "You might want to check the Restricted section if you're trying to create a spell. Look for one called Silken Links, Silver Ties. It's about how bonds are perceived in different realms." She stood and shrugged at Hermione's quizzical look. "I snuck in one evening when Tom possessed me. It didn't have what he was looking for but it might be what you need."

She smiled and waved her farewells as she left the library and Riddick stared after her. Hermione smiled once he met her gaze again and shrugged, "Ginny's always been great at remembering bits and pieces of information. She said it comes from having six older brothers. If she didn't pay attention all the time she could end up with blue hair or spiders for dolls."

"I might just be glad I'm an only child," Neville commented with a half smile and Hermione laughingly agreed with him.

8888

She'd been right. Harry and Riddick, and Neville for that matter, were up to something. Neville apparently had been assigned the task of giving her the runaround whenever she inquired about her husband and brother. Smiling at him as sweetly as she could unnerved him just enough to be satisfying and she'd retired to the rooms she shared with her husband to wait his return.

Inquiring of the house elves where Riddick and Harry had gone only resulted in them attempting to punish themselves when they couldn't, or wouldn't due to a promise, answer her. That had occupied her for a while, assuring them she wasn't angry at them and would not free them because of what her brother and husband were doing.

Riddick, to give him credit, didn't even try to sneak in. He entered the room, smirked slightly at the sight of her in bed, reading as she waited for him and began to get undressed. "I told him you'd figure it out after you didn't see either one of us for an hour or two. He knows you pretty well, said I was right but that you still wouldn't be able to find out where we'd gone in time to stop us." Riddick gave her a dark eyed stare, "And you wouldn't have been able to stop me sweetness. Some things I can let go. Or you take care of them yourself. But this? They were gonna give him a slap on the wrist. Some time in a cushy cell, community service and a tracker on his wand. Because he's a Pureblood."

Hermione nodded silently, studying him. He had a darkly contented look about him, of a need for violence satisfied. It was a look that suited him. "So what did you and my brother do? He was being held in the Ministry."

Riddick shrugged and climbed into bed with her, taking the book out of her hands and pulling her into his arms, nuzzling her neck. "Harry told me how you and the other kids snuck into the ministry your fifth year. They don't care why you're going in. Harry gave me his invisibility cloak and told me how to find the holding cells. Then he went up to see the minister about making sure Ron was held accountable for his assault on Lady Potter."

Hermione let herself be tucked against him, his big hands rubbing over her skin. "Were you seen? Or did you keep the cloak on?"

"He was the only one in the cells. Guess they don't use them much these days. Or they had another level for overnight guests maybe," Riddick's hand slipped down to her thighs, caressing her skin as he spoke. "Put up a degrading ward, like you showed me, so they can't read my magical signature. Then I took off the cloak and watched him piss himself." 

She sighed, part of her sad for the friend she'd lost, wondering if she'd ever really known Ron well enough to call him a friend. Sometimes it felt they they'd become close due to their friendship with Harry. But Ron had always been jealous, denigrating or both. "So did you remove his liver? Or just slit his throat?"

Riddick growled, holding her tighter against him, possessive and protective both. "Wrath was already pulsing... cloak barely hid it on the way down. I hit him with it, so even if I lost my mind and left him alive his magic would be fucked. And then I carved him up. Abdominal aorta was too quick for him. I made sure I cut him slow and painful, cut off his balls and that little prick of his and burned them right in front of him. Then I opened him up and cut into his liver. He died quicker after that."

Hermione nodded slowly, "Everyone in the common room heard you threaten him. If he died by a blade won't the Aurors come after you?"

His hand cupped her jaw and tilted her head back so he could look into her eyes, "No. We're both safe. Used those bluebell flames and a Bubblehead charm to keep anyone from smelling anything odd. Did the same when I burnt his twig and berries. Magical fire burns hot, especially when Wrath is helping fuel it. He's ashes now."

"And then you and Harry came back here?" She knew she was nitpicking but at the same time she needed to know the Ministry wasn't going to hold Harry and Riddick responsible.

"Got an alibi of sorts. Rented a room at the Leaky Cauldron, kept Snips there to move around and make noise before we went to the Ministry. We both went up, then Harry came down and I followed him under the cloak. Did the same thing only in reverse after the Ministry. Thanked the guy at the bar for the room and went on our way." Riddick was sounding very pleased with himself. "Anybody looks to see who came into the Ministry with Harry's gonna see William Johns Jr as the extra guest."

"I forgot that the visitor’s booth has that little quirk. It doesn't verify identification." Hermione sighed. "You didn't have to do this love. We'd have been gone before he was released."

"I'd have done it even if he'd gotten life in Azkaban." Riddick's silver eyes were hot and fierce. "Nobody touches you against your will. Not even me. Nobody sweetness." 

She'd never had anyone go to such lengths to protect her, or make someone pay for hurting her. She should be scared. She should be appalled at the violence and lack of respect for the law and society's mores. Hermione pressed her lips to Riddick's in response to his declaration and accepted that she wasn't afraid of her husband because of what he'd done, and would happily do again. And she wasn't appalled. She was glad that Ron couldn't ever hurt her again. Glad that he was dead. If she'd hit her head wrong on the hearth she could easily have died and he wouldn't have cared. 

"Angry with me sweetness?" Clearly Riddick thought she would be upset and appalled.

"No." She shook her head and kissed him again. "You're protecting me. And Ron's had enough chances to change. All he ever does is hurt people again. The world is better off without him."

Riddick's hands began to move more urgently over her skin as his body covered hers. "Perfect woman. Fucking made for me Mya."

Hermione gave herself over to the passion he was quickly igniting within her and pushed all thoughts of Ronald Weasley out of her head.

8888

Her dreams became stranger all the time. The thought was fleeting as Hermione crossed the mass grave to where Shirah stood on a bluff overlooking the fields. She had thought once she’d had that blinding realization about her dreams that they might stop. Riddick had mentioned Shirah was pushy but the words paled in comparison to the force of the apparition’s nature. “We’re trying.” She offered quietly. “We’ve bound ourselves to one another. Our magicks are shared and we learn more each day about the Faery Realms. But I won’t risk losing him.”

“What is life without risk,” Shirah’s gaze was a dark gleam in her golden face. The spirit of Furya was implacable. “If you do not dare all, how can you win all?”

“You actually want the last of your descendants to throw himself across time and space with wild magic in the hope that we’ll be able to follow him?” Hermione wondered if the woman was completely sane. “That’s madness.”

“Sorceress…” Shirah regarded her coolly. “I have named you thus. You are blood bound. Power bound. Inextricably tied to each other but you still do not trust those bonds. You still wait for reassurances in some dusty old tome. Refusing to have faith in what is within you.”

“I’m smart, but not that powerful,” Hermione protested. “And I’m rooted in Earth. What if I hold him back?”

“Sorceress, you must choose soon. Safety and surety and a cold complaining world. Or a life beyond the stars…” Shirah laid her hand against Hermione’s ribs, her palm pressing like a hot coal against the witch’s bare skin. “You must Wake. Wake and See. You have been blind for too long. Wake and Live. Or stay forever sleeping and die on the cold Earth.”


	20. Chapter 20

Hermione woke, gasping, Riddick’s voice a dull roar in her ears, bathed in blue light. “Hermione!” He shook her, his hands firm on her shoulders, relief filling his voice as she met his gaze. “What the fuck happened?”

“Shirah, in my dream…” Hermione wheezed and put a hand to her abdomen. It ached like someone had laid a red hot brand on her skin.

“Fucking bitch,” Riddick’s words devolved into a growl as he took in the mark just below her cleavage. 

“It’s…” Hermione studied it, objectivity taking over as it so often did when she’d had a shock. “Riddick, it’s the size of your hand, not hers. Look.” She pressed her hand to his mark, her fingers and palm fitting perfectly against his chest and took his palm and pressed it to her abdomen. His skin met hers and the flash of light that exploded between the two of them set the walls and wards trembling with the effort of containing the wild magic.

Hermione blinked, her ears were ringing and with an effort she swallowed. Riddick’s silver gaze was studying her in concern as she looked around, double-checking that her wards were in place. “Mya, what happened in your dream?” 

The witch took a deep breath and told him everything she remembered. “She’s…impatient with me I think. Because I’m worried about what we’re trying to do. She told me I had to Wake. Like she Woke you I guess?”

“Yeah, she fucking did that,” Her husband nearly snarled the words out. “So she wants us on Furya yesterday and now she’s pushing you to make it happen.”

“We can’t go anywhere until the school year is over,” Hermione said with a frown. “We can’t leave from inside Hogwarts. We need neutral ground to use as our start point. Otherwise the idea of a circle of compass points won’t work.”

“Only a few months more though,” Riddick said thoughtfully. “Think we’ll be ready?”

Hermione rubbed her lips over his jaw as he held her close. “I’m not sure we have a choice anymore. We’ll have to be.”

8888

The Aurors did come to Hogwarts to speak with Hermione and Harry. Since no one had seen fit to inform them of Riddick's abilities as a mage once again they didn't bother to interview him. Considering Hermione had been with Neville, Ginny, and Lavender in the Gryffindor common room until she'd retired to her own room there were no shortage of witnesses available as an alibi. And Harry had been in the Ministers office. 

Ultimately the mystery of Ron's death would go unsolved. Molly Weasley sent Howlers to both Harry and Hermione, but Riddick's magic intercepted them, simply burning them up before she could begin screaming. Ginny was quieter for a little while but as she pointed out to Luna, she and Ron had never been truly close and he'd alienated her with his comments about Tom Riddle's diary and her stupidity. She could admit to being sad she'd lost a brother but she felt worse about Fred's death than Ron's. Hermione was grateful that while Ginny mourned she wasn't putting Ron on a pedestal in her grief. Her interactions with the younger girl were easier these days, now that Ginny's mental health was improved. Harry had remarked that since Ginny'd begun her therapy she no longer behaved so extremely, impossible to please one day and disturbingly ingratiating the next. He'd spoken with Ginny about Ron, sympathetic to her muted grief and the two of them were becoming better friends than they'd ever been before.

Practically speaking, Ron's death was a nine days wonder only prolonged by the Daily Prophet and gossip over Harry or Hermione's possible involvement and Ron's position as the third of the 'Golden Trio'. But infuriated as Molly Weasley was, she wasn't at Hogwarts and the students had bigger things to worry about. OWLs and NEWTs were coming soon after all.

As the NEWTs approached Hermione caught Harry and Neville watching her closely, and now and then, whispering with Riddick in voices low enough that she couldn’t hear. Slanting them a quizzical look she could only roll her eyes and resume reading her Ancient Runes text while she slowly ate her lunch. 

“They’re trying to figure out the timeline,” Ginny remarked quietly from across the table. She and Luna were sharing Luna’s Transfiguration book while they practiced wand movements.

“The timeline?” Hermione blinked at her while Luna just smiled.

“For when you’re likely to start prodding them to study and make color coded schedules.” Ginny’s mouth twisted humorously. “They’re only boys.”

“Young men,” Luna corrected. “But they’re missing the obvious, because they are only men after all.” She and Ginny exchanged identical wicked grins and Hermione smirked.

“They’re actually behind,” She murmured. “Our OWL year I was tearing my hair out a month after Christmas.”

“Well you have Riddick to steady you now,” Ginny shrugged as if she was stating the obvious.

The use of his name caught Riddick’s attention and all three males regarded the witches curiously and in Neville and Harry’s case, cautiously. “Uh… Luna?” Harry’s wary gaze fell on his girlfriend. “Something we should know?”

The diminutive blonde witch smiled, “You’re telling Hermione’s husband that she’s going to go crazy any day now. She’ll realize how little time she has left to study for NEWTs.”

“Yeah, that’s been the pattern for six out of seven years,” Harry agreed. “We thought he could use the heads up, so Hermione doesn’t spend nights in the library.”

“But she’s not.” Riddick’s warm palm traced Hermione’s spine. “Because I balance her.” His silver gaze regarded Luna thoughtfully.

“Well before I would have to prod Ron and Harry into studying. They never seemed to study at all and if I wanted any quiet time to work I had to nag them or they wouldn’t leave me alone.” Hermione reminded them. “Harry wasn’t as bad as Ron, but Ron would drag him off to talk about Quidditch or chess or whatever and he’d always try to pull me into it too.”

“But this year has been different all along.” Ginny smiled slightly, “So you don’t have to nag them. Harry and Neville are responsible enough to do their own work and study without the reminders. So you can relax and work at your own pace.”

“I used to get frantic, I’d worry about them failing, and I used so much energy trying to help that when it came to my own work I was convinced I’d fail everything.” Hermione shrugged. “Now…I just want to take the tests and know that I have the knowledge I need. We’ve got three estates worth of libraries; plus, all the books we’ve found or bought. I can study to my heart’s content after we’re done with Hogwarts.”

Neville had been listening in his usual quiet way, taking in everything they’d said and nodded finally. “You don’t think the fact that you and Harry nearly got killed every year since you’ve met might have lent a little urgency to your studying?” He smiled slightly, “Nothing like the threat of a Dark Lord to make you feel like you’d better know your magic backwards and forwards.”

Hermione chuckled, conceding his point, “That may have had something to do with it.” She shook her head. “Now I’m just trying to learn all I can about Gateways and Wyrmholes.”

“Wyrmholes?” Harry asked curiously.

“An Einstein-Rosen Bridge… Scientific phenomenon for jumping through time and space, the books we found reference them but these have a magical element,” Riddick supplied the vague definition. “They occur most often around a concentration of Ley lines. Nodes lend themselves to conduits and the more powerful the node the better.”

“You think a place like Stonehenge would work?” Harry asked, a little bit of excitement in his voice.

“If you go to the right one,” Ginny spoke with an absent air as she noted something down from the textbook.

“The right one?” Hermione blinked, “I thought there was only one Stonehenge.”

Luna shook her head, “It’s one of the most magically powerful sites in England. You really think the Ministry would tolerate Muggles tramping all over it? When Magical and Non-Magical society split and the Statue of Secrecy went into effect the Ministry created a ‘tourist’ Stonehenge. That’s the one everybody knows about. It’s real enough, the stones, everything really, it’s all the same age and made the same way, it’s just not of the site of a Ley line junction.”

Hermione looked at Harry and her brother grinned ruefully, “Yeah, we probably should have thought of that.” He admitted. “It makes sense.”

“So where is the real Stonehenge,” Riddick asked curiously.

“Only a few miles from the fake one,” Ginny gave the reply absently. “You have to go through the Ministry to use it though. Get a permit and tell them why you’re using it. That sort of thing. And you can forget about doing anything on the festival days. They’re always taken by the Ministry.”

Hermione rubbed her forehead tiredly. “So we either file paperwork telling all and sundry what we’re trying to do, or we find another site.”

“Why don’t you use the circle here?” Luna asked quietly. “Hogwarts has a greater node of Ley lines than Stonehenge even.”

“Thought we had to have neutral ground.” Riddick’s low voice reminded her. Hermione nodded her agreement. Everyone spoke of Hogwarts as a bastion of fortitude for the Light.

“Hogwarts is neutral,” Luna told him. “It has to be. That’s why Tom Riddle wanted to take it. You can’t teach children all types of magic on sanctified or spoiled ground. Dumbledore may have liked to think the school was of the Light and only the Light, but he was wrong. Hogwarts is the epitome of balance. Light can’t exist without Dark.”

“We don’t know what it would do to the wards or the castle for that matter,” Harry pointed out.

“The circle is within the wards but outside the castle.” Luna returned her attention to the book, “I’ll show you tomorrow after breakfast.”

Hermione felt some of the tension she’d been carrying seep out of her shoulders and Riddick’s hand gently squeezed the back of her neck. “Don’t worry Mya,” He tucked her against his side, murmuring softly. “We’ll get it done.”

“I can’t help but feel that we’re running out of time,” She sighed. “She says the power to do this is within us… but…”

“She’s a cryptic bitch.” Riddick said flatly.

“That doesn’t help, no.” The witch agreed.

She closed her book and at her husband’s prompting ate the rest of her lunch, peripherally noting when Neville asked Ginny if she’d like to go to Hogsmeade with him on the coming weekend.

8888

It was rare that she got to spend time with Neville without Riddick or Harry. But she'd agreed to help him harvest some Venomous Tentacula seeds and that was an activity her husband and brother didn't particularly care for.

"You're worried." Neville commented quietly as they carefully dusted the Tentacula with a special fertilizer that would force it into hibernation so they could harvest the seeds. "Why are you worried about me?"

Hermione sighed, caught out, and shrugged. "I suppose...I worry about your interest in Ginny because she's still got a ways to go with her healing. I don't want you to get hurt."

Neville smiled at her and shook his head, "I'm glad she's gotten help. She's closer to being herself than she's been since she started Hogwarts."

The witch blinked as she held the spelled bag for him, "I didn't realize you'd met before she came to Hogwarts."

The scion of Longbottom House shrugged, a wryly rueful expression on his face, "The Wizarding world isn't a large one. It becomes smaller when one only associates with Light aligned houses." He began to carefully gather the seeds with a soft wooden tongs. "My grandmother was a schoolmate of Muriel Prewitt. She used to bring me over to play with Ron. But he never really wanted to play with me. I'd sit with Ginny and Luna and we'd read stories or look for Luna's creatures. She had a crush on Harry, or the idea of him, but I was the one she actually talked to. She and I could always talk."

"It must have been hard for you when she came to school acting so oddly." Hermione commented.

"We hadn't seen each other in almost a year, but it was disappointing that she'd changed so much." Neville nodded his agreement. "She was better second year and she and I had a great time at the Yule ball my fourth year. But even then...she'd have these flashes of petulance. It wasn't like her. And it started to get worse. She'd barely talk to me."

"There were rumors," Hermione said softly. "They weren't kind."

"That she was one of the school brooms?" Neville nodded. "She and I talked about that some, once she was allowed visitors in the hospital wing. After she stabilized a bit. Part of that was rumor...and part of it... well some things were true. She acted like she didn't care about her reputation. Leading guys on was another way to get power. Following through on some things, but not others... well that's how the rumors got started."

"I was worried she'd been abused, that she'd gotten into a bad relationship because of what the diary had done to her," The Muggleborn admitted. "Women will do a lot to try and be 'normal', to make who they're with happy, if they're not in a healthy mental state and the man is...pushing for proof of affection."

"There were attempts," Neville nodded, his normally mild face grim. "There was a reason we all spent a lot of time in the Room of Requirement. Especially the girls. It wasn't safe outside of it."

"You and she are repairing her friendship," Hermione smiled. "I'll try to worry about you less."

"Maybe you should worry about her," Neville teased gently. "After all, I could break her heart."

The witch grinned at him, "I'll compromise and worry about both of you."

Neville groaned and rolled his eyes as much as possible while still watching a dangerous piece of flora.

8888

True to her word Luna showed Riddick and Hermione the stone circle on Hogwart’s grounds the next morning. Hermione thought as they hiked past Hagrid’s hut and around the Black Lake that it was no wonder they’d never found it. The trees of the Forbidden forest thinned around it, but it was definitely past the tree line.

Regardless of the difficulty in finding it, the moment Hermione stepped between the stones it was obvious they were in a place of power. Hogwarts had always practically hummed with magic, never more so than after she and Riddick had blood bonded, but the circle’s ambient power was to Hogwarts as the London Symphony was to a whistled tune. “Bloody hell!” The words fell from her mouth without thought. 

Beside her Riddick was muttering under his breath, but Luna was merely smiling at them placidly. “You see? We might be within the wards but here… we won’t harm them.”

Hermione nodded, feeling more than a little like she’d downed Firewhiskey on an empty stomach. “It’s incredible.”

“Nobody else knows about it? No one else will be using the circle?” Riddick had the presence of mind to ask.

Luna shook her head, “It’s been forgotten, along with most of the old ways. Once the teachers and students would have celebrated the feast days here. But with the advent of other religions and magic becoming standardized… people stopped celebrating. The old gods withdrew when people stopped inviting them into their lives.”

Hermione looked around thoughtfully, “It’s almost May.”

Luna blinked at her, for once shocked, “Are you really thinking…”

“I’m thinking that Cernunnos is one of the common names for the Horned God or Herne the Hunter.” The Muggleborn witch spoke steadily, “And that my husband is the greatest hunter I know. We need all the help we can get. If invoking the Old Gods, who are supposed to be the Wizarding ancestors, will help us then I’m willing to do it.”

Riddick’s face was thoughtful, “Shirah was pretty adamant that you would renew Furya.” He mused in his deep rumbling voice. “If the Old Gods, the Tuatha de Danann withdrew to their own realm because no one paid them any attention… You think showing them that they’re needed, wanted, would help us later on when we’re opening the gate?”

“I think who better to guide someone than a Hunter,” Hermione nodded. “But we’d both have to be willing to…be subsumed by the spirit of the Old Ones. We’d be serving as avatars.”

“It…would add a sympathetic power to the circle,” Luna sighed. “But I don’t know if you realize what you’re letting yourselves in for.” She looked at the two of them, “The Old Ones…they’re…ideas personified. The Hunter. The Maiden. His hunt and capture of her within the circle…you won’t be able to control it. There aren’t any contraceptive charms or potions that have survived a ritual like this.”

Riddick looked at her and Hermione took a deep breath. “I think…we have to.” She admitted quietly. “I can’t explain it but it just feels like this will help.”

He folded his arms looking around the circle and slowly nodded, “All right. Can’t say I’m completely sold on the idea of being possessed by an Old God but if it’ll help us find Furya…I’ll risk it.”

8888

Luna very quickly talked Hermione and Riddick out of the idea that they should tell Harry and Neville about the ritual. “The last thing you want is for Cernunnos to possess one of them and not Riddick.”

Hermione had shuddered at the idea and Riddick had simply growled so forbiddingly at the thought of anyone else but him touching his wife that any notion of sharing their intentions was quickly dropped by the wayside.

Riddick had been equally disturbed by the idea that the Hunter’s aspect was not always conducive to care or concern for his partners. “I worked a long time, worked damn hard at keeping balanced. Furyan’s…we’re more animalistic than other men. I don’t want all that to be for nothing.”

Luna had shrugged even if her eyes were concerned. “To be a true Hunter one must understand how prey thinks. Understand the animal. Cernunnos may wear the antlers but they’re to embody his union with nature and his prowess as a hunter.”

Hermione had managed to find a few accounts of the old rites in the Room of Requirement’s library. “I don’t think it’ll be much of a problem love,” She said slowly as she scanned the hand bound pages. “This is vague but since it’s a rite of Spring, that means renewal and fertility. The Hunter chases the Lady but since they both embody the season…” She paused, “It’s supposed to be joyful in a way. A celebration. It’s not something of blood and death the way a fall festival could be. We’re a bit past the Vernal Equinox but since we’re so far north spring comes later here. We’re pushing it but not so much that we’d be ignored.”

The Furyan had still been concerned until he’d begun doing his own research, asking the Room for more information on the rituals, the Old Gods, the Tuatha de Danann and anything else he could think of. By the time he’d finished Hermione could tell he was feeling a bit more at ease about taking on Herne’s aspect. 

She wasn’t entirely certain what she’d be embodying. Asking Luna had only resulted in more confusion. “Even the Hunter has his opposite Hermione. You’re…the vessel, the female aspect while he’s the male.”

“Luna, am I making a huge mistake?” The Muggleborn worried, “Part of me just…knows that this is something we need to do. The other part…”

“You’ve never had anyone else take control of you,” Luna reminded her softly. “Not even with the Imperius.” 

Hermione nodded, “That part scares me. Rather a lot.” She added dryly. 

“No rite is undertaken lightly Hermione,” The blonde witch offered. “And you’ve always had the potential to be more than you seem. You don’t trust yourself enough.”

That had silenced the Muggleborn as it too strongly echoed Shirah’s accusation in her dreams. Riddick had nodded his understanding of her misgivings and added his own unique perspective. “You said you got caught, when you were on the run last year. Caught and tortured.” His hand had skimmed down her hair and spine in soundless reassurance, “It’s harder to give yourself into someone else’s power when you’ve been a prisoner. When you’ve been powerless.”

Hermione nodded and let him pull her into his lap. 

8888

Exhilaration filled Her. For too long She had been ignored by Her descendants. And now She had a vessel worthy of Her. A strong powerful witch. She could feel everything. The thrum of the living earth beneath her feet, the whispers of new growth and the deep hearty song of the trees all around her. The world was waking from its slumber again. 

She wasn’t alone in the woods; she could feel Him, stalking through the trees, His vessel as powerful as hers, a mage and hunter both in one. Each vessel uniquely suited to this dance.

Her vessel had tendrils of worry, unease, rising through her and She quieted them easily. This was Her time. 

His presence came closer, His hands close enough to touch and She darted away, laughing as He chased Her. The growl that sounded behind Her as He pursued sent a thrill up Her spine and She felt an echo of pleasure from Her vessel, memories of the sound against skin, quickening the body in which She dwelt.

She ran and evaded His grasp and raced through the trees, the dance between them one She knew well. His growls were playful, tinged with hunger and She could hear His breath as He drew closer to Her.

The circle rose out of the trees, sanctuary, glowing with power in Her sight and She raced between the stones, Her Hunter right on Her heels. Strong hands caught Her before She could leave the circle again. She fell and He with Her, a strong hard body ground against Her flesh, and the dance between them changed again.

His mouth came down against Her neck, teeth fastening to Her flesh and the heat that gathered between Her thighs seemed to bloom through Her body. ‘Mine,’ His voice held echo upon echo, His vessel claiming Hers, and the response rose to within her, as easy and natural as breathing.

‘Yes.’

The body of His vessel was strong and proud, filling Her and immediately withdrawing, only to fill Her again. The pleasure that chased over Her was secondary to the feel of power coiling through both of them. Her vessel tried to shrink from it, and She felt the tendrils of fear again. But why? The answer when She sought it, came easily. Her vessel knew nothing of the strength she possessed. Bindings, deep and old, fraying against the power within were nothing to Her and She broke them without a second thought.

Magic surged through Her, filled Her as surely as His body filled Her, the male of the species going into full rut as instinct won over control. ‘Mine!’ It was Her turn to claim Him and She felt His assent as they joined again.

‘Yes.’

She felt the swell of power rise through them both and gloried in it. This was Her time, Her vessel, Her mate.


	21. Chapter 21

Hermione woke shivering slightly and felt Riddick’s arms around her, pulling her close. Warm lips trailed over her jaw and up to her ear, nuzzling her lazily. Turning her in his arms, his mouth met hers and gently devoured, teasing and torturing her with tender pleasures until she was moaning in her throat and arching against him.

But he only left her mouth to fasten his lips to her breasts, sucking one nipple into his mouth and laving it with his tongue while his fingers tugged and rolled the other. She could almost feel his satisfaction when her hands clutched at his skull and her back arched, thrusting her breasts up to his mouth.

That low, almost evil, chuckle she loved so much drifted over her skin like a velvet caress as Riddick’s hand slid between her thighs, nudging them apart even as he lowered his body to hers. The feel of him, wide blunt tip pressing to her entrance sent a thrilling rush of heat through her body and she moaned again, instinctively rolling her hips up to his.

Instead of sliding inside her in one slow smooth thrust her mate chose to ease his way inside her body. His hips pressed forward minutely and then retreated, sliding forward a bit more and retreating again until she was writhing under him and trying in vain to meet his hips with hers. 

The feel of him, pressing down to her, finally grinding his hips to hers, left her gasping and Hermione clutched at his back, wrapping her legs around his waist, loving how his body shifting inside hers drew a groan from his lips.

Her satisfaction over provoking his reaction was short lived. A single swivel of his hips had her crying out at the shock of fire that began to fill her body. Slow, deliberate, restrained movements of his hips kept her from any coherent thought until she was coming in long hot waves that seemed to roll through her body without end.

“That’s my woman,” Riddick’s voice growled in her ear. “That was for you.” He pulled her up and easily set her on her hands and knees, “This.” He paused and drove hard and deep inside her from behind, one hand on her hips, fingers just touching her clit, the other on her breast. “This is for me.”

Hermione moaned as his body pounded into hers. Hard and rough and wonderful, his hands brooked no hesitation in her responses, demanding, insisting upon her pleasure, wave after wave of ecstasy rolling over her. It took all of her strength and what concentration she had left to stay upright. And then his teeth snapped down onto her nape, her long hair wrapped around in his fist and her body was flat on the soft forest floor, Riddick still huge and hard inside her.

His fingers tugged on her clit and she wailed his name as his cock dug deeply in her, her body stretching around him. “Come for me woman. My wife. Come for me right fucking now!” He pinched her clit and slammed his hips against her and the orgasm that overtook her seemed to explode out from his fingers and her spine until she was dizzy and hazy-eyed with pleasure.

8888

She woke the second time in Riddick’s arms, her husband carrying her through the forest towards Hogwarts. “Hmm…” She rubbed her cheek against his collarbone.

“Awake again sweetness?” His voice was amused and concerned.

“Yes. Are we going to Hogwarts or your place in the Forbidden Forest?” It occurred to her that the direction he was taking was towards both.

“Hogwarts. Need to get us both cleaned up.” His dark chocolate voice was carefully neutral.

“Well I imagine we’re both a little dirty,” She offered trying to discern why he suddenly seemed so disturbed.

“That’s not the half of it sweetness.” He shook his head and continued to carry her, held close to his chest all the way up to their hidden suite and its attached bath.

Once he removed their cloaks Hermione understood what he’d meant. She was covered with love bites, some of them with teeth marks, her knees and wrists were bruised and she was fairly certain some of the bruises on her hips and thighs were from Riddick’s hands. His own toffee colored skin had its fair share of marks as well and she guessed that whatever aspect of Ostera had possessed her was a fairly energetic and equally animalistic partner.

“Do they hurt?” She touched a particularly deep bite with purpling bruises around it on his shoulder.

“Do I hurt?” He looked at her incredulously, “Woman you’re all over bruises, from me. You’ve practically got my handprint on your hip.”

Hermione shrugged and began to run the bath, adding herbs she knew would cleanse the wounds and help ease her muscles. “Love I’ve fought in a war. You didn’t savage me. We engaged in some very, very, energetic sex while acting as avatars for what seemed to be the ancient god and goddess of spring. I was expecting it to be hard to sit down honestly. This is… well, this doesn’t worry me.”

Riddick shook his head, chuckling and helped her into the tub, climbing in beside her. “Every damn time.” He kissed her temple. “Every time I think I’ve got you figured, you go on and surprise me all over again.”

8888

The first inkling she had that something had changed was the ease with which she completed the transfiguration exercise. She normally took a few tries to get it right. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand the theory or the instructions. But gathering the right amount of magical power had always taken her several attempts. 

Harry blinked at her when she flicked her wand and her snail turned into an elaborate snuffbox, complete with gems glittering on the lid. He wasn’t far behind her, his wand work needed only the smallest correction to be effective. He waited until class was over before walking at her side opposite of Riddick and his voice when he did speak, was hesitant. “Uh, Hermione… You…make any changes lately?”

The witch regarded him curiously and shook her head. “No. Not that I recall. Why?”

“I just…noticed that you’ve…” Harry ran a hand through his hair a bit nervously, trying to smooth it down. It was a habit she knew was left over from his time at the Dursley’s when his aunt had admonished him daily about his unruly hair.

“Harry, it’s okay, just come out and say whatever you need to.” Hermione relaxed into Riddick’s side and smiled at her brother.

“You know I’m sensitive to magical auras.” Harry reminded her and she nodded. It wasn’t widely known but part of why Harry seemed so easily drawn to trouble was his ability to sense large amounts of magic. People mucking about with the third floor corridor for instance, left huge magical footprints and the impressions drew Harry like a moth to flame. Dark magic gave him headaches and healing spells (when he was conscious) tended to make him giddy, now that the horcrux was out of his skull. It was part of why he’d been so helpful with her warding project for her NEWTs. If she could fool his senses the average wizard or witch would be completely stymied.

“Of course.” She nodded thoughtfully, “I thought that’s part of why you and Ginny weren’t together anymore honestly. Once we found out she’d never had treatment, her aura must have almost abraded yours when you two were close.”

“Yeah, I think that might have been part of it, even if we never talked about it,” Harry nodded and half smiled. “Now that she’s better it’s funny, we still don’t work together. We’re fine as friends but our magic doesn’t want to mingle the way yours and Riddick’s does. Or the way mine does with Luna.”

Hermione chuckled, “One more thing Wizarding raised people figure ‘everyone knows’ and don’t bother to explain to the newbies.”

“Yeah.” Harry shifted uncomfortably. “But the reason I asked is…well it’s almost like you’ve gotten some sort of power boost. Your aura was always strong but now it’s nearly crackling. You’re practically throwing off sparks. Your magic and Riddick’s…it’s so strong, bound together and perfectly attuned, it’s really amazing.”

“You think…” Riddick began, looking down at her.

“It’s possible… if there was some sort of binding, the ritual could have broken it.” Hermione nodded. “Very possible actually. Ostera isn’t something that can be controlled.”

“Ostera…” Harry’s voice lowered. “You two did a rite of Spring? Are you insane? There’s nowhere around here that’s safe for that.”

Hermione folded her arms, “Don’t make assumptions Harry. Have I ever undertaken a ritual without a complete understanding of what it means and with full appreciation for the safety of those involved?”

Harry shook his head, quailing slightly at her tone and phrasing. “No… no you haven’t.”

“Then trust we didn’t do anything foolish or risky this time.” She admonished quietly. “I wouldn’t risk Riddick and he wouldn’t risk me.”

“All right…but what did you do?” Harry asked finally.

Hermione looked around at the empty hallway. “We’ll have to run if we’re going to make Charms. I’ll tell you afterwards. We have a free period then.”

8888

Neville, Luna and, not entirely unsurprisingly, Ginny, joined the three of them in the Room of Requirement and Harry looked at Hermione expectantly. “All right. We made it through Charms.” He sat back and waited.

Hermione sighed and began to explain the rite she and Riddick had taken part in, the reasons for it and the apparent result which Harry had noticed. Neville frowned thoughtfully and exchanged a look with Ginny and Luna before all three of them shook their heads or shrugged in mystification. “Honestly Hermione, an Ostera rite…that wouldn’t do anything to change you. The whole idea is that you’re honoring the Old Ones, our ancestors. The benefit is much less…localized.”

Ginny nodded, “A fruitful season, success hunting, guidance from the Gods… those are all expected and hoped for results.”

“But for someone who channeled Ostera to gain in power is…unheard of. It’s Spring. No human being can hope to hold such power, other than the temporary and highly specified service as a vessel.” Luna agreed. “If you gained in power it was yours all along. Participating in the rite might have…freed it somehow?” She glanced at Neville curiously.

“That’s actually highly likely.” The scion of Longbottom House nodded. “Spring is…riotous, for want of a better word. An artificial block on your magic would be anathema to Ostera.”

Hermione looked at Riddick who just shrugged and rubbed at the knots of tension in the base of her neck. “Who would have put a binding on me?” She shook her head, “Who could have? My parents wouldn’t have allowed it. We weren’t in the enemy’s hands long enough for such a thing. And I wouldn’t block my own power.”

Harry’s laugh was a short derisive bark, “I’ll give you three guesses who and the first two don’t count.” He told her quietly. “Who had the power to do it, the ability and access to all of us?”

The Muggleborn blinked, her mind racing and a very Furyan growl burst from her lips as she came to the inevitable conclusion. “Fucking Dumbledore!”

Ginny shook her head, “I don’t doubt it, but why? What purpose would it serve?” 

“Control,” Hermione snarled. “The old man was all about control. Raising Harry as a sacrificial lamb. Giving just enough information to entice and lead but never enough to solve the puzzle until the very end. Every year a new obstacle, and never a thing done about the budding Deatheaters bullying their way through the student population.”

Riddick’s slow thoughtful voice interrupted would might have turned into a fine rant. “If that’s the case, might be a good idea to check all of you for bindings or blocks or whatever you want to call them. ‘Less you think he would have stopped at Hermione?”

Hermione barely had the thought before the Room provided a book opened to the proper chapter. Her wand in hand she practiced the motions as she silently read the incantation. “This spell…its used by Healers… it can undo all bindings not willingly undertaken.”

“Maybe we ought to get someone to oversee this?” Ginny suggested nervously and Neville’s emphatic nod echoed her concern.

“Magical bindings can release a lot of power,” Luna said softly.

Hermione took a deep breath and nodded, “All right. But I want to do the spell that will detect the bindings. So we know if they’re there.” That got her a round of nods and she flipped through the pages of the book for the appropriate spell. A moment of memorization and she had the spell firmly fixed in her mind. “Revalio Nexum!”

It wasn’t much of a surprise when every single person in the room save she and Riddick began to glow. Hermione’s gaze hardened and she looked at Harry. “Every one of us was in the infirmary after the Ministry of Magic debacle.” She reminded him. “Either Dumbledore did this with Madam Pomfrey’s knowledge or he did it behind her back.”

Harry’s face had settled into the grim lines of the battle hardened man he’d become last year and he nodded. “So we go to Madam Pomfrey first. And ask if we have any bindings on us. If she says no, we know she’s lying and we go to McGonagall.” 

Hermione nodded after looking at Riddick and seeing his resolve. If the healer had something to do with the bindings put on her and the others, then Riddick would want to know why. A shiver ran up her spine, the anxious feeling taking root in her brain and she hoped she was wrong.

8888

Madam Pomfrey was someone Hermione and Harry could always count on. Until this year she’d been warm and supportive, kind and generous and not once had she given them any indication that their wellbeing was not her first priority. She’d patched them up after countless scuffles, adventures and plain old accidents for so long that it was almost impossible to conceive of her having any part in someone’s intentions to do them harm.

Almost. Almost impossible.

Hermione waited with her friends and brother and husband for the gargoyle to allow them entry to the Headmistress’s office and wished she didn’t feel like her entire world had been shaken about and put back in place upside down. Pomfrey’s expression of polite interest as they’d explained their suspicions rose in front of her again.

The Healer had completed the Revalio spell but only eyes as sharp as a Seeker’s or as suspicious as Riddick’s would have seen the slight deviation in her wand movements. The disappointment Hermione’d felt upon hearing the Healer lie had been like a sick weight in her stomach. It had taken all of the skill she possessed to thank the woman and lead the rest of them without comment from the infirmary.

Professor McGonagall had apparently allowed them entry as the gargoyle leapt aside without a word.

Hermione’s gaze once they were within the office went unerringly towards Dumbledore’s portrait. “Did you cast the bindings? She couldn’t have, it would interfere with a Healer’s oath, but once they were there, she could act as if a parent had placed them. It couldn’t have been Voldemort; he didn’t have contact with us until well after you were dead so there’s no use blaming it on him.”

The portrait of the late, great, Leader of the Light, stroked his beard and shook his head, “I’m sorry my dear, but I’m afraid I don’t understand you.”

Behind her Riddick growled and Hermione looked at McGonagall. “I’m hoping like mad that you weren’t aware of this. That you knew nothing of what he’d done. Or what she did. She could only have done it if she wasn’t actually a full-fledged Healer. If she didn’t take the oath. If she’s not a true Healer then she shouldn’t be working in a school.”

“Miss…” The Headmistress stopped and corrected herself, “Mrs. Riddick, I promise you. I swear on my magic that I knew nothing of any binding cast upon any of my students.” Her wand lit with a wordless Lumos and Hermione smiled gratefully.

“Thank you ma’am. You have no idea how comforting that is to hear. All of us, besides Riddick have had bindings of some sort placed upon us. Mine were broken recently. But everyone else’s are still in place.” The Muggleborn explained quietly.

“Yeah, really not thrilled about the whole ‘binding’ thing anyway. It’s not like I don’t have enough trouble,” Neville added dryly.

“Odd that it’s only those of us who went to the Department of Mysteries who have bindings,” Luna added pointedly. Ginny nodded her agreement, her brown eyes glaring at Dumbledore’s portrait.

“We don’t know that for sure,” Riddick pointed out. “Easiest way to tell will be for someone to cast the spell at mealtime in the Hall.”

Professor McGonagall nodded and sighed sadly, “I must admit, parents will occasionally add a temporary binding to a child’s magical core if they display a large and early amount of accidental magic. Such as Mr. Potter levitating the pet cat into the crib with him. Regardless of the cat’s willingness to be there.”

Harry blushed and shook his head, “But that sort of binding should be removed once I started school right?”

“Normally yes,” The older woman nodded. “It appears that your medical care has been somewhat…remiss.” That she would have preferred to use stronger language was quite obvious to everyone in the room.

“So where should we go to get the damn things removed?” Riddick had been quiet so far but that time was clearly at an end. “There was some mention of magical backlash when bindings are broken?”

McGonagall nodded, “There are a few rooms off the great hall which are suitable. Once it was a matter of course to remove any bindings put on the children before they were sorted. The house elves can be set to cleaning them up and any excess magic can be channeled into the wards from those chambers.”

“Guessin’ you know the unbinding spells?” Riddick regarded her thoughtfully. “Might wanna have Hermione or me watch you, some of the others too… if there’s a bunch of kids bound, best to have more than one person undoing them.”

The Headmistress nodded firmly, “An excellent suggestion Mr. Riddick. Now…” She took a deep breath, visibly bracing herself, “Shall we go down to dinner?”

8888

She couldn’t believe how many of the students had bindings on them. Most of them Muggleborn or from Slytherin. But none of them first or second years, which meant that it had been Dumbledore who’d bound the magic of the incoming first years three years ago. McGonagall had been so shocked she’d gone white and had to sit down at the sight of more than half the hall glowing with the telltale gold hue of Dumbledore’s bindings.

Thankfully the house elves had responded to her Headmistress’s call and handed each bound student a note with a number on it. Hermione shook her head as number twenty-four was called and Astoria Greengrass entered the chamber with a hesitant step. Hermione gave her a (hopefully) reassuring smile. “Just relax Miss Greengrass. It won’t hurt at all, you’ll feel… a little lighter when it’s done, and your magic should come more easily.”

“Why are you doing this?” Astoria was apparently a little confused. “You and your…husband? Husband.” She repeated the word firmly when Hermione nodded a confirmation of the relationship. “Neither of you are Pureblood. Why do you care if that old man bound our magic?”

“Because no one deserves that.” Hermione told her quietly. “Harry and I fought for everyone to be equal. Not for Halfbloods and Muggleborn to be better. Equal means everyone on the same footing, with all the natural abilities we’re born with. You don’t deserve to have your magic bound just because you’ve been sorted into Slytherin. Slytherin means you’re ambitious and willing to bend the rules a bit. It doesn’t mean you’re lazy or prejudiced. Used to be it didn’t even mean you were Pureblood.”

“Slytherin’s always stood for purity of blood though,” Astoria argued in her cool elegant voice. “Ever since he refused to teach anyone not born to a magical family.”

“Well he had good reason to didn’t he?” Hermione began to flick her wand, incanting the unbinding spell. When she was done Astoria’s magic burst out of her in a flare that made the runes around the room glow bright blue. The Muggleborn continued the conversation as if nothing had happened. “After all, back then Christianity was saying magic came from the devil. It wasn’t always safe to educate the children of more religious families. They might not keep the secret of magic. They might tell others who’d then turn to violence. But the times have changed and very few people think unusual abilities mean a person is evil. If Slytherin were alive now, he probably wouldn’t have an issue teaching Muggleborn. After all, no one’s been burnt at the stake for quite a while now.”

Astoria stared at her a moment and curtsied politely. “Thank you Miss, Mrs. Riddick.” She offered her gratitude with a thoughtful expression.

Hermione grinned as she watched the girl go. She might not be around to see it but maybe Wizarding society could change.


	22. Chapter 22

Hours later she was rubbing her wrist and relaxing in Riddick’s arms as they all sat in McGonagall’s office again. Neville had made the runes glow a bright verdant green for a full twenty minutes after his magic had been unbound. Luna and Ginny were marveling at how easy it was to cast spells now while Harry had nearly burnt out the runes with the sheer power unleashed.

Professors Flitwick and Sprout were busily going through the old records of their students and checking off the ones who were deceased. No one knew how long Dumbledore had been exercising his own version of censorship but it was agreed by every veteran member of the staff that it had gone on for far too long. 

“What I don’t get is why?” Riddick interrupted the scratching of quills and murmurs of irritation with his question. “This guy was supposed to be such a good guy, why would he bind just the Slytherins and Muggleborn? I guess if he thought Slytherin was a dark house that’d make sense but Muggleborn? How were they a threat?”

“Why would he tell everyone that fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself, so that Harry and every other Muggleborn or raised witch or wizard used the name when Voldemort returned?” Hermione shrugged. “Deep down, Dumbledore was all about the greater good. His greater good. And he really didn’t have a lot of respect for Muggles or Muggleborn. In all his years as a member of the IWC and Chief Mugwump, he never pushed for legislation for equal rights or did anything to discourage Purebloods from believing they were superior because of their birth.”

Harry nodded, “Binding Neville and I…that makes sense. Either one of us could have been the child of prophecy. Binding our friends so that magic came harder to all of us… I think that was just his insurance. Making sure we had no choice but to fight a guerilla war. Setting me up to be his sacrificial goat. Walk right up to Voldemort and be killed. Didn’t ever tell me I had a piece of that bastard’s soul in my head.”

Neville sighed, “I think he was what Hermione would call a ‘control freak’. He always thought he knew better than anyone else.”

Professor McGonagall echoed his sigh as she nodded her agreement. “I can’t tell you the length and breadth of the arguments we had about the Philosopher’s stone and his plan to hide it here, laying a trap for Voldemort. But we were overruled and bound to silence. Bound by oaths of loyalty taken when we were first employed. Not even Severus thought that plan was a good or sane idea but none of us were given a choice.”

Riddick shook his head. “Sounds like he had you all snowed pretty good. Get you under his thumb, establish himself as alpha, push off mundane details and concentrate on making his big picture happen.” Hermione felt his head tilt back and knew he was staring up at the portrait of the Headmaster. “And the hell with anyone he thinks would get in the way of that big picture.”

“That’s it in a nutshell.” Harry confirmed, “Muggleborn are brought up to argue, to learn and question everything. That doesn’t mesh well with a man who wanted to be adored and feted as ‘Leader of the Light’. So bind their magic and they won’t be respected as enough of a power that anyone will listen to them.”

Hermione sighed and shook her head, “Our yearmates who didn’t come back, the ones left alive… they’re going to be furious.”

Neville had an even more disturbing thought, “How many of them died because they couldn’t power the spells they needed? Like a Reducto or Patronus?

That had all the veterans of the war grimly silent and Professor McGonagall pointed her wand at Dumbledore’s portrait, conjuring curtains similar to those covering Mrs. Black at Grimmauld Place to silence and conceal the old man’s image. “Far less than he deserves but all I can do for now.” She remarked in a tone of voice so cold it left no doubt as to her fury.

“We’ll need to call Draco. Let him know.” Harry sighed, “Let him pass the word to anyone he knows.”

“I’ll do it. Me he still feels like he owes, so he’ll listen to me for the length of a floocall, he still doesn’t like you much Harry.” Hermione climbed off Riddick’s lap and knelt in front of the fireplace, floopowder in hand. Requesting Malfoy Manor and speaking politely to the house elf who answered the Floo, eventually brought Draco Malfoy to the flames.

“Granger,” He nodded politely. “Good to see you recovered. What can I do for you?”

Hermione offered him a polite smile and nod of her own, acknowledging his courtesy. Of course she’d sent him a note of thanks once she’d recovered from the curse but Draco was still the sort who liked to see things for himself. “We’ve discovered something that Dumbledore did to many of us, and may have done to quite a few Slytherins as well. I wondered if you’d like to come through and discuss it?”

“The ‘something’ was nothing good I take it?” Draco’s expression was resigned and the question clearly rhetorical. “Give me a moment to send a message to Mother and I’ll come through.” He turned away for a moment, obviously speaking to someone, and then nodded to Hermione again. “Keep the Floo open, just step back, I’ll be right there.”

Very well aware of how messy Floo travel could be Hermione took his advice and stepped back to allow him entry. Riddick stood, coming behind her to stand in silent support as the scion of the Malfoy family entered the Headmistress’s office.

Hermione watched as Draco took in the inhabitants of the room with one glance. The only people she’d met who could do that were Hit Wizards, war veterans or experienced Aurors, and now Riddick, who was in a class all by himself. Draco’s war had been just as ugly and violent as hers, hosting Voldemort was not for the faint of heart or weak of stomach.

“Granger, Potter, Longbottom,” His eyebrows rose in faint surprise at Luna and Ginny’s presence but he greeted they and the heads of house politely before bowing to the Headmistress with exquisite courtesy. “Professor McGonagall. May I assume you are attempting to redress the wrongs done by your predecessor?” 

“As much as we can Mr. Malfoy,” The older woman said with a pained sigh. “I’ll let Mrs…” She half smiled, “Mrs. Riddick explain to you what she discovered.”

Hermione leant back against her husband’s broad chest and smiled at the surprised expression on Malfoy’s face, his gaze flying to the runes around their wrists. “Married before you’ve taken your NEWTs?” He shook his head, “I would never have thought it of you.”

The witch shrugged, unable, and more importantly, unwilling to hide how content being with Riddick made her. “Riddick would never try to hold me back. We’re equals. Blood and birth don’t matter.” Malfoy just grinned, more relaxed than she’d ever seen him, as she continued to speak. “I think we might want to take this conversation out of the Head’s office though.”

The easy expression slipped a bit as the Pureblood wizard nodded slowly, “Perhaps that might be best Madam Riddick. I’ve found that bad news is best delivered without an audience.” His grey eyes were dark and haunted for a moment before his Pureblood mask slipped back into place and he bowed slightly, indicating she should lead the way.

8888

Hermione sighed tiredly as she took her hair out of its tight braid in preparation for bed. “He took it better than I thought he would.”

Riddick’s chuckle, “He’s not stupid, whatever else he is. Knew right away the implications of what you’d found.”

“Draco’s a lot of things but he’s not slow on the uptake when it comes to power.” Hermione confirmed. “Lucius Malfoy was not one to have reasonable expectations of his son. From what I learnt of his home life he was alternately neglected and spoiled. And living with the Dark Lord would give anyone perspective on what’s actually important versus what’s been taught.”

“Keeps his ear to the ground too,” Riddick pulled her into his arms and began to rub his fingertips over her aching scalp in a gentle massage before tugging her down to lie beside him.

“He was always good at gathering rumors and distilling facts from them.” Hermione confirmed. It had been something of a shock to have Draco inquire in a matter of fact tone about the status of their immigration.

“Immigration,” She had repeated the word back in shock and he’d chuckled.

“Seriously?” Draco had been almost teasing. “You’re not the only one with a brain. Potter and Longbottom have been buying up raw materials. Anyone connected to the Fey realms can feel something is changing. Clearly the new version of the Golden trio is up to something. Given the current idiocy of the Wizangamot and the lack of change I don’t see you in particular putting up with it anymore. Not when you have other options.”

Riddick’s chuckle had drawn an irritated glance from her, “He’s got you pegged sweetness.” Her husband had shrugged and looked at the man, pale and slender as a rapier but near his equal in height. “Yeah, we’re leaving. Way things are going there’s gonna be another war and my woman and her brother aren’t sticking around for it. Friends are coming too. ‘Fraid your lot is going to lose more than just your Chosen One.”

Draco’s sigh had been resigned but he hadn’t tried to argue any of Riddick’s points. “I can’t disagree with you about a war, if things don’t change. It’s a little funny that both of the Dark Lords prior to the next have been Half Bloods. The Malfoy name is…pleasantly neutral at the moment. I’m allying with House Greengrass at my mother’s suggestion. Potter and Longbottom will be missed.”

“The government doesn’t listen to us,” Hermione told him quietly. “Harry has tried to help. But the Wizangamot only wants to keep the status quo, regardless of damage that’s done in the past.”

“Change comes slowly to our world,” Malfoy had said finally. “I can’t blame you for wanting to leave. But I don’t have that option. I can’t abandon everything I know and love. So I have to try to make it better.”

Hermione nodded, “If you want my advice? Start with the Muggleborn. There must be some like Harry who were abused because of what they are. Find them. There are plenty of families with only one child. They could blood adopt them. Find the rest and educate the parents. Bring them into the Wizarding world early. Listen to them. The Muggle world has a lot to offer. Not just technology but the way of doing things. The Muggle government tries to protect its people.”

“Read once, the government is supposed to work for people, not the other way around,” Riddick added.

Malfoy had nodded his agreement, “I hope, if we ever meet again, you’ll find our world…better than you left it.” He’d taken his leave of them shortly afterwards, promising to reach out to his contacts regarding the possible bindings they still bore.

Hermione sighed as she relaxed against her husband, enjoying the warmth of his skin and the quilts covering them. “Thankfully Draco has learnt what discretion means. He’ll send whoever he finds to Hogwarts to get the bindings removed but he won’t mention our ‘Immigration’. It wouldn’t help his cause and keeping that to himself could be used later.”

“Political animal huh,” Riddick grinned. “I like our kind better.”

Hermione pushed herself up against him to rub her lips over his mouth with a pleased growl. “Me too.”

8888

The alumni visiting Hogwarts had finally slowed to a trickle and Hermione still couldn’t shake the feeling of a storm gathering. Tension seemed to ride her, crackling in the air and her sleep was restless.

“What do you want me to do?” The words burst out of her when Shirah appeared in the golden field in which she stood. “I don’t know what you want me to do. We’ve got the bare bones of a ritual, a place to perform it, our Houses firmly tied to our magic… but you keep pushing and pushing!”

“You are the Sorceress. It is for you to take action,” Shirah heaped scorn upon derision with her words. “He has Chosen you. You are Bound. Body, Soul, Magic and Will. And still you do not trust. Still you do not Wake. You will not See because you are willfully blind!”

Hermione growled, fury rising in her, the handprint across her stomach pulsing, “Just tell me already. We want to come home! We just don’t know how. We don’t know what will work.”

The embodiment of Furya looked her up and down with disdain, “You cannot dare all if you risk nothing. What would you risk? What is Home worth to you, Witch?” She spat the title as if it were a curse. “You must choose. Choose your birthright or forsake it entirely and Him with it.”

“I will never, never, forsake Riddick.” Her hands curled into fists and Shirah should have rightfully burst into flames with the force of her glare. “He is mine. I am his. There is no going back from that. I will not give him up. This is our world. And we will find it.”

“Then Choose. Choose what you will risk.” Shirah smirked at her.

8888

Her head ached when she woke up. Riddick was watching her through his silver eyes, concern on his face. “Shirah again?” 

Hermione nodded and sighed, “She’s really pushing. And she’s right. We don’t have a lot of time left. The school year will be over soon and we need access to the circle on the grounds if we’re going to do this.”

Her husband nodded, “You know that I’m fine if we can’t find our way there. I don’t owe Shirah anything anymore. Ending up as her instrument of vengeance cost me everything I’ve ever known.”

Hermione rested her head on his shoulder and frowned thoughtfully, “She’s always saying I have to choose. I have to dare. I have to Wake.” The seeds of an idea began to germinate as she traced her fingertip over Riddick’s Mark.

“Guess it doesn’t help what McGonagall found about Pomfrey does it?” Riddick asked quietly.

The witch shook her head, “That old man’s hypocrisy knew no bounds.” She still had trouble comprehending what Dumbledore had done.

Madam Pomfrey had regarded the Headmistress, Hermione and Harry with an irritated gaze when they’d entered the infirmary, Riddick, Luna, Neville and Ginny at their heels. “What is going on? Miss Granger, unless someone is injured I must ask you all to leave.”

The Headmistress had regarded her old friend with a frown of concern and with a flick of her wand the matron was confined to a chair. “I believe it’s high time we spoke Poppy, regarding Dumbledore and his actions.” She’d run roughshod over Madam Pomfrey’s objections, laying out the facts with cool ruthless efficiency as well as the results of the Revalio spell when cast upon all the students. 

The matron had been appalled and completely disbelieving, unreasonably so, and the Headmistress had frowned and cast Revalio Nexum upon the irrational woman. She’d lit up like a Christmas tree and all of them had gasped at the sight of binding upon binding, wrapped around her. Twists of glowing color surrounded her in disturbing garlands. 

Hermione had been looking around the infirmary and nodded in satisfaction at what she’d seen. “We can safely undo the bindings here. It makes sense, there’d be a lot of magical backlash here, from accidental magic or undoing spells that have gone wrong.”

It took no less than three separate attempts, finally succeeding with Harry, Hermione and Riddick casting in unison, to dissolve all the unwilling Bindings on Poppy Pomfrey. The older witch had been weeping softly, distraught and ill at what had been done to her and what she had done to others, or allowed to be done without protest, thanks to the many bindings to which Dumbledore and others had subjected her.

McGonagall had called for a mindhealer from St. Mungos and arranged for another Healer to substitute for Madam Pomfrey while the woman recovered.

“No wonder she was so odd this year. Some of those bindings were decades old. And not all of them were from Dumbledore. There were Deatheaters teaching here last year. They wouldn’t have wanted her to actually help the students too much.” Hermione sighed. “Between those and what Dumbledore did, and her vow as a Healer, it’s a wonder she wasn’t completely insane.”

“Lot of hurt can be laid at the feet of that old man.” Riddick growled.

Hermione smiled slightly, “Yes. And I have a great idea of how to make certain everyone knows about it. And who actually did something to correct the problems.” 

“Yeah? Gonna share with the rest of the class sweetness?” He pulled her closer and began to drag his lips over her neck, nibbling on her pulsepoint.

“Hmm…later.” She set the idea aside to concentrate on more immediate needs, dragging his face up to hers to kiss him hungrily.

8888

“You know that smirk on your face looks eerily like your husband's right?” Ginny murmured, a laugh in her voice as she sat down across from Hermione.

The newlywed shrugged, still half smirking as she ate her breakfast. She’d explained her plan to her friends so they were all prepared. But the rest of the great hall was riveted to their copies of the Daily Prophet. Rita Skeeter had outdone herself.

Hermione had met the woman on the last Hogsmeade weekend and given her chapter and verse on what had happened to the Muggleborn and those sorted into Slytherin, explaining what Dumbledore and the Deatheaters had done to Madam Pomfrey and the students. Telling the reporter about the Revalio spell and how any healer should be able to check for bindings had Skeeter questioning her reasons for wanting people who might not support her causes to become more powerful. 

Her answer was quoted in bold in the middle of the article, “We fought Voldemort because we believed that all men and women are created equal. That blood status or birth doesn’t matter. We all have the right to the gifts that we are born with. Equal means that everyone is treated the same. And if I didn’t support Purebloods being freed of these bindings the same as Half Bloods or Muggleborn, then I’d be an even worse hypocrite than that meddling old man Dumbledore. How many people died because he bound their magic and they couldn’t adequately defend themselves in a time of war? I can’t live with the thought of allowing that to continue even one more day.”

The article had ended with advising all Wizards and Witches who may have been subject to Dumbledore’s ‘power censoring’ to report to St. Mungos to be checked for unwilling or unknown bindings so they could be removed.

Riddick chuckled as he rubbed a hand up and down Hermione’s spine, “We might be leaving but we can still support equality while we’re here.” He was looking around the hall seeing, as she had, many thoughtful expressions.

“About that…” Ginny looked around and cast a Muffliato before continuing. “Do you think I could come with you?”

Hermione stared at the Pureblood witch in open astonishment. “Ginny, are you sure? I mean, you realize what you’re asking?”

The redhead nodded, her dark eyes solemn. “I told you, I want my life to be worth something, to mean something. If I stay here… there’s nothing for me here really. Overbearing family, distracted brothers, prejudice favoring Gryffindors and hating Slytherins… I… I’ll never have a chance to see what I can be with a clean slate. I’ll never be free of what happened. Or my mother.”

Riddick regarded her with a concerned expression, “Everybody else… Well to be blunt, they’re all orphans. No family. No ties. Just the family they chose. You’d be giving up a lot.”

Ginny shook her head, “Not really. I won’t be able to have any sort of future here. People have long memories in the Wizarding world. They’ll remember how I was, what happened and they’ll judge me on it. My mother will begin pushing me to settle down and get married the moment I’m home, to the point where I might do it just to get away from her. This is better. Cleaner. I’ll write and tell them I’m immigrating to the New World. It’ll even be true in a way.”

Hermione nibbled her lower lip thoughtfully, “I don’t object, but it’s not up to only me. You’ll have to get the approval of the others too.”

“I’ll ask them after classes.” Ginny nodded, “Can we all meet in the Room of Requirement?”

Riddick looked at Hermione and she shrugged at him once, both nodding as they turned to Ginny again. “We’ll pass the word along.” Riddick agreed. “If you come, you’ll want to see if any of the elves would like to bind themselves to you. It helps them.”

Ginny nodded eagerly and dug into her breakfast with renewed enthusiasm.

8888

The Room of Requirement was completely empty of junk now. Apparently the Hogwarts elves had decided that it was time the useless garbage be disposed of. It wasn’t even dusty anymore. Hermione leaned against Riddick and simply listened as Ginny made her case for ‘immigrating’ with them to Neville and Harry. Luna had joined them since she’d made her decision to join them long ago. As close as she and Harry were, there was no chance of her ever choosing otherwise.

There was a very long pregnant pause when Ginny finished speaking and Harry looked over at Hermione. Ginny, in her rather recently developed tactful manner, excused herself to the far side of the room and began examining a shelf of books that had appeared as she neared the wall.

“Hermione, what do you think? You and Riddick,” Harry kept his voice low.

The witch looked over at the redhead, and shrugged a bit, “Honestly, we’re taking a risk. If it doesn’t work out, if she and Neville break up, if she has a relapse… well if things go wrong they’ll go really wrong. But if they don’t…” She looked her brother in the eye. “Ginny is the seventh child of a powerful magical family. She’s a very powerful witch in her own right. And she’s right. There’s no way she’d ever get a fresh start here. Not unless she left everyone in Great Britain behind and went over to the Americas or Australia anyway.”

Harry nodded and looked at Neville and Luna, both of whom seemed to be considering what she’d said. Neville finally took a deep breath, “I vote to let her come. I… well it’s no secret that I’ve always liked her. I like her even more now that she’s…herself? Well, more herself than I’ve ever really seen. She deserves a chance. Voldemort hurt her more than anyone else, except you Harry.”

Luna’s soft voice was firm. “She’s been my best friend since we were five. I lost her once. I don’t want to lose her again.”

Riddick’s low rumble of a voice carried easily through the room, “Hey Red, guess you’ve got a one way ticket to Furya.”

The look of absolute joy on Ginny’s face could have powered the Hogwarts Express around the world.


	23. Chapter 23

The dreams of Furya were turning into nightmares. Horrific images of Riddick standing in the center of the stone circle and vanishing forever, their bonds broken, leaving her jagged with pain and alone. She’d woken Riddick in the middle of the night more than once, reaching for him frantically and clinging to his strong, very alive, body. She knew she was worrying him, could almost feel his rage at the thought of Shirah tormenting her like this. But she couldn’t be certain it was Furya’s spirit giving her these terrible dreams.

Their deadline of the end of the school year was fast approaching. NEWTs were upon them and Hermione was studying with her usual dogged determination. Tests had always been her way of proving she belonged in the Wizarding world, but now that she’d decided to leave, there was nothing left to prove. She’d survived a war, helped to vanquish a dark lord and done as much as she could in her limited time left to help the people she was leaving behind. Now she was trying to cram as much knowledge into her head as she could, in preparation for the new world they hoped to find.

And she still couldn’t rest easy about the ritual they were going to do the day before all the students left.

Finishing the written portion of her Transfiguration NEWT wasn’t hard. Finishing early was almost expected and since she’d deliberately limited her answers to only the question asked she was done with near lightning speed. Calling Winky and asking her to take her things back to her room, minus the wicked blade Riddick had given her, her cloak and her wand, took another five seconds and then she was on her way to the stone circle hidden at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

She wasn’t certain if Cernunnos and Ostera would even pay attention to her since the season of renewal had past, but she had to try. She couldn’t beg answers or advice or reassurance from Gaia, since they were leaving the world. Asking anything of the Morrigan was begging for trouble since Hermione hadn’t brought anything as an offering and it was morning rather than night even if she did favor magical warriors.

Riddick was doing some hunting with the centaurs this morning, trying to stockpile more meat and hides for the elves to preserve for use on Furya. As he’d pointed out, he didn’t know what sort of game was left on his home planet but it was better to have supplies and not need them than the reverse. 

It wasn’t easy to strip down to nothing but a simple linen tunic, her wand holding her hair back in a knot and the bone blade strapped to her forearm, but anything not natural that she brought into the circle with her could simply be lost in the face of a nature spirit’s power.

Standing in the circle, with absolutely nothing to guide her, might have been the hardest thing she’d had to do that wasn’t to do with the war. She was completely alone and without words, only a desperate need for guidance.

“Peace child,” The voice that murmured in her ears was gentle but implacable in its own way. The rush of water, the whisper of the breeze and the subtle shaping of the earth all seemed to fill the words. A mother, a firm, loving but powerful mother. “You are so sorely in need of reassurance. Why did you not come to me?”

Fingers beneath her chin, lightly calloused and still tender, lifted her face so she could meet the gaze of the being whom she stood before. A crown of branches and leaves, flowers and long flowing hair tinted brown and green as if her hair was leaves and moss and branches. Her eyes were ever changing colors. Later Hermione would try to recall the details of her features and despite her excellent memory would have no idea what the woman looked like.

“My poor child, you are so afraid, is the unknown such a terrible thing?” The voice was loving but gently chiding as well and Hermione blushed.

“Not the unknown, but being without him,” The witch explained. “I didn’t want to insult you…by asking for help when we’re leaving.”

“As if you could remove yourself from my reach,” Gaia reproved tenderly. “I am life child. I am nature. I exist on all worlds, in every place where there is growth; to believe life is restricted to only one world is the insult.”

“I am sorry.” Hermione shook her head, “I didn’t think of it that way. I’ve only been… Shirah is the only one who’s ever… well, spoken to me.”

“That one,” The Mother of the Worlds almost rolled her eyes. “She is embittered by the ravaging of her world. She is desperate and angry. She pushes where she should coax. But for all her flaws, she is not wrong. Your mate is hers, her child. He belongs to that world. You are the crux, the fulcrum upon which the entire endeavor rests.”

“What if I do it wrong? I don’t have the words; we don’t even have a proper ritual.” The fearful words bubbled up before Hermione could censor herself.

Gaia’s laugh felt like the rush of birds through the trees, a flutter of amused sound that baffled someone with less wisdom. “Did you need words to call me here? It is your longing, your need, not your speech to which we respond. You think too much child of magic. Magic is not ruled by intellect; it is fueled by your emotions.”

“We’re gathering… under the stars…the new moon,” Hermione offered softly. “We’re all bound, by one purpose. Tied to our Houses. Even Ginny has bound herself to several elves and House Longbottom. We’re nearly ready.”

One hand pressed down upon the crown of Hermione’s head in benediction, an amused smile curving the deity’s lips. “The readiness is all.”

The feeling of touching a live wire, power flooding her body, nearly distracted the witch from the oddity of Gaia quoting Shakespeare.

When she could stand again the Muggleborn hurried out of the circle and into her clothes, calling for Winky.

8888

“Um…Hermione?” She could tell just from the sound of his voice that Harry was wearing a bemused expression. “What…what are you doing?”

Hermione glanced behind her and then turned to Bibs to answer the elf’s question before answering her brother. “We’ve got almost every magical book ever published as far as knowledge and teaching is concerned. We’re set for lessons but we completely forgot something.”

“Forgot what?” Harry was looking around at the staging area the Room of Requirement had become in confusion, as well he might. Boxes of vinyl records, old phonographs, stacks of books and films were filling the Room and being catalogued and Apparated elsewhere almost as quickly as they appeared. 

“Culture,” Hermione retorted. “Magical and Muggle children's books. Music. Literature and art. Shakespeare, and Twain and Bronte and Austen. Bradbury, Lackey, Martin…” She looked around, grateful beyond words for the house elves. Bibs had simply gone to multiple libraries, some of them in America even, and directed the elves to copy the contents into blank books purchased for that purpose. The expense had completely cleaned out her Gringotts vault, even with the settlement from the Ministry, but it was worth it. Luna had offered to go to Flourish and Blotts for Wizarding children’s books since apparently the magical world didn’t have libraries except in schools. 

Hermione continued as she and Bibs worked, “We don’t know how long we’ll be out of touch with the rest of the galaxy. So if we want something recorded electronically we’ll have to have it done here on data chips. But we’re getting the phonographs and vinyl records because they don’t need power and it’ll take a while to get solar set up. We can’t count on anyone coming to Furya for a while so we won’t have access to computers except the ones we bring.”

“Can we bring them?” Harry was undoubtedly remembering the issue of electronics at Hogwarts.

“Of course we can.” Riddick strode out of the labyrinth of crates, carrying several boxes in his arms. “Think your Ministry or Diagon Alley or St. Mungos would have gone unnoticed if they were disrupting all the electricity and computers around them? They’re in the middle of London.”

Harry hadn’t thought of that apparently and he grinned. “So we could teach the kids how to use computers. Bring books on how to make more if we got the materials? That sort of thing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?” Riddick smirked at him and Hermione giggled. “I can pilot a ship and if you want to sail the galaxy you’ve got to know how to maintain the systems. Between the computers we’ve got, the knowledge in my brain and the reference books we should be able to create a com system and a nice solid bank of computers. Snips and I been workin' on it for a while.”

“So two days before we’re due to leave you’re sending the elves all over creation to get hard copies of all the important pieces of Magical and Muggle culture.” Harry was still obviously trying to take this in.

“Well I started after the Transfiguration NEWT,” Hermione shrugged. “You just noticed it now.”

“I wondered why you weren’t going crazy over the tests,” Her brother admitted. “But I was trying to study too.”

“We’ll be gone before we get the results of our NEWTs and honestly, so long as we pass the practicals who cares?” The witch rolled her eyes. “We’ve got all the books to learn from and if we screw up the practicals it’ll be immediately obvious.”

Harry’s expression was suddenly worried, “Who are you and what have you done with my sister?” He demanded to know before his expression cracked and he started laughing.

Hermione rolled her eyes again over his silliness, “Boys.” She returned to her work with a smile lingering on her lips. Riddick’s low chuckle as he gave her butt a squeeze before he continued with his work told her she wasn’t fooling anyone with her bossy attitude. Her giggle and playful swat at his backside didn’t do much for the façade either.

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Hermione felt as if her lungs couldn’t draw in enough air, gasping as Riddick’s body finally relaxed over hers. “I’ve got you sweetness,” His low rich voice rumbled in her ear, lips caressing the delicate skin there. “I’m never letting you go woman.” He rolled over so she was sprawled across his body and pulled the quilts up over them both. 

Hermione didn’t have the strength or will to object, “Hmm…” She rubbed her breasts lazily over his chest. “Are you trying to exhaust me so I’ll sleep before the ritual tonight?”

His big hands grasped her waist and pulled her up to straddle his waist, silver eyes gleaming lustfully as he looked up at her. “Fuck yes,” He pushed himself up to lick and tease her sensitive nipples with his mouth, hands kneading her ass. “Can practically hear your brain running Mya.”

Her groan of pleasure didn’t even attempt words as her nerve endings danced to the tune he played. His cock was already swelling, hardening between her legs and rubbing against her clit each time Riddick’s hands moved her hips. “Unghh… god…”

“Love how fucking wet you get,” Her lover’s mouth never left her skin, lips tugging on her sensitive flesh, long slow pulls that echoed in pulsing wet heat between her thighs. “Smell so damn good sweetness. Ride me.” It wasn’t a plea. Riddick did no such thing in bed and rarely at any other time. He seemed to take a great deal of pleasure in making sure she enjoyed doing as he said though. In the near year she’d known him she’d never felt a moment’s pain as a result of his need. And his needs were… above average, just like the rest of him. 

Riddick’s palms squeezed her thighs, helping her lift her hips and sink slowly down on his cock, groaning as her tight wet heat surrounded him. A slow undulation of her hips had them both gasping and the moan the emerged from her mate’s mouth was like the sweetest music. “So fucking good.” He growled the words, “Ride me hard sweetness. Wanna hear it.”

Despite their bond and sharing of abilities, her strength wasn’t any match for his, and her thrusts downward not quite enough for either of them, prompting Riddick to grasp her hips and move her body against his. The slap of flesh meeting, the moist sound of his body plunging into and withdrawing from hers and heavy breathing surrounded them until Hermione was shaking, forced to one climax after another, her hands clawing at his chest. “Riddick…unghh…fuck me, come in me…I’m… oh god!” The orgasm seemed to come from the base of her spine, bowing her back as she screamed in reaction.

The loud growl and hot sharp sensation of his seed flooding her body, teeth sinking into her shoulder kept her pinned to consciousness, the edges of her vision dimming as ecstasy overwhelmed the witch, collapsing against his chest in shocked reaction.

The rumbling beneath her ear was almost like a purr as her husband chuckled and lifted her body off his, gently cleaning her up and laying her on her stomach on the bed. His voice was pure wickedness as he pushed a pillow under her hips and whispered in her ear. “Again sweetness. You’re gonna black out with the pleasure I give you. You won’t be able to keep your eyes open when I’m done.”

His hands slid under her, cupping her breasts, scissoring her nipples between his fingers and his cock rubbed against her ass, already hard again even as part of her mind boggled over the undeniable proof of his readiness. “Trust me?” He was playing with her ass now, teasing her as he liked to do when she was wet and ready for him. “Hmm? Answer me Mya. Do you trust me.”

“Yes,” It was nearly a sob, his ability to ignite her need an exquisitely pleasurable torture. “You know I do.”

“Good… because I’m going to make sure you’re filled up. Completely.” His finger pressed against her, teasing the rosebud of her ass, her own wetness used as lubricant to ease the passage and she moaned as he murmured something and magic tingled against her sensitive skin.

“Riddick…what… unghh…what are you…” She couldn’t form a complete sentence, it was as if he had four hands, playing with her breasts, fondling and pushing in her ass and one tugging and almost vibrating against her clit.

“Be surprised what you can find in those old books.” His dark voice was amused but hot with need and she could feel his cock rubbing against her, making her ache to be filled, even as she wondered what part of her he would choose. She’d never been against experimenting, and he’d shown a lot of interesting in teasing and playing with her, but he’d never actually fucked her anally before. Riddick muttered something again and she moaned as his fingers withdrew and something warm and thick began to push against her ass. “Want you to trust me…relax Mya. I can feel it…you’re ready…so fucking wet… So pretty…”

The sensation was unlike anything she’d ever felt, hot, full and stretched, as he pushed into her ass, but it still wasn’t enough and she nearly sobbed in frustration as whatever was teasing her clit slowed. “Riddick…please… I’m so… please I’m close!”

“Beautiful,” He growled and those fingers on her clit rubbed harder and gave her a sharp pinch that sent her hips bucking back to him, pushing whatever it was deeper inside her as she came, her thighs wet and slick with her orgasm.

Hermione moaned, part of her painfully empty even as pleasure echoed over her body. “Riddick… Ohhh...God...”

She could feel him, his cock teasing at her entrance, “God you’re beautiful.” His voice was a low growl of hunger. “You need it sweetness? What are you thinkin’?” 

“Unghhh…please… fuck me Riddick… I need… need you…inside me.” She was squirming, needing movement, the desperation for the deep rough strokes of his cock inside her crowding out every other thought.

“Fuck yes,” His growl was triumphant, his cock pushing slowly but without pause deep inside her, pressing against the object he’d used to fill her ass until she was full to bursting, tight and hot and almost unable to take all of him. “You’re so fucking tight Mya…” She felt him stop short of his body becoming flush with hers.

“Don’t…don’t stop…love… need you.” She tried to push back onto him and was rewarded with an agonizing burst of pleasure at the minute movement. “Riddick!”

She was rewarded with him moving though, pushing forward until his hips met the cheeks of her ass, filled so thoroughly she was panting with it, moaning and begging for more. When he began to pull back, the sensation of his magic tingled over her skin again and kept going, hands firm on her hips but something still tugging and sucking on her breasts and teasing her clit. His chest pressed to her back as he covered her body with his and began to move his hips. 

Bliss. White hot, burning and almost incandescent, it filled her as he began to move, short hard snaps of his hips that drove his cock deep and hard inside her, sensations echoing through whatever he’d used to fuck her ass as it moved along with him. She’d never felt anything like it, his magic and his body, filling her, pulsing through her until she was simply moaning, barely able to say his name. It wasn’t an orgasm that shattered through her after the first five strokes of his body. A tidal wave of sensation gathered, crested and crashed over her as she screamed in reaction.

And he kept going. Over and over. Until she was mindless and desperately meeting each thrust, feeling every change of his body as Riddick drove them both towards his climax. When his teeth remarked her neck, his growl of triumph echoing in her ears she wailed his name, white heat blotting out every other sense and darkness spilling over her as she throbbed and came violently at the feel of his cock pushing and opening her cervix, filling her womb with his seed.

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Magic tingled over her skin, gentle and warm, Riddick’s magic, and she smiled, knowing she was still half asleep. It continued, tender and careful, like a warm bath and she slowly came awake, feeling huge tender hands brushing and braiding her hair, oils anointing her temples and pulse points. “Hmmm… what was that?”

His chuckle was rough and satisfied as he kissed her neck carefully. “That was a little trick I read about and figured I could recreate my way. Magical imitation.” He was smiling down at her when she finally opened her eyes. “Like it?”

“Hmmm…” She stretched against him and nodded. “Not for all the time… You’re enough for me. But it was…very distracting.”

“That was the point.” Riddick grinned at her and helped her sit up. “Knew you wouldn’t sleep unless I blew out your brain.”

Her smirk as she glanced down at his groin and obvious interest in her body was almost as wicked as his grin. “Maybe I should blow out your brain?” She pushed his chest and her husband obligingly fell backwards on the bed allowing her to straddle his legs and bend her head down to suck and lick his cock.

“Oh fuck yes,” His groan was so satisfying to hear. Even as she carefully sucked and flicked her tongue over his stiff cock she couldn’t help but enjoy how much power she had over this gorgeous dangerous man. Power he gladly gave her. His hand wrapped around her braid and she moaned around his cock, bobbing her head up and down in reaction to his hips twitching. “Fuck…sweetness… so damn good!”

Hermione moaned around him again, this act arousing her almost as much as it did him, she could feel moisture gathering between her thighs, her clit engorged and her nipples tight and stiff, aching for touch. She heard and felt Riddick inhale and knew the moment he smelt her arousal, his cock almost flexing in her mouth, growing even harder, precum seeping from the tip. “Mya… Fuck…Hermione… stop…” 

His hands grabbed her shoulders, lifted her and in one disorienting move, put her on her back, Riddick on top of her and spreading her thighs to drape them over his shoulders. His mouth wrapped around her clit and he growled, sucking and flicking his tongue over the sensitive flesh until Hermione was thrashing and trying to roll her hips up to his mouth for more. 

Another of his lightning quick movements and her legs were spread around his hips, his cock driving inside her with a groan of relief that Hermione couldn’t help echoing. “Yes… oh god yes Riddick… I want you.”

Hard, fast and frantic, their bodies slammed together, Riddick fastening his mouth to her breasts, sucking hard, his fingers digging into her hips and Hermione clawing at his back, both of them desperate to get closer. She gasped in shock as he seemed to push impossibly deep inside her, bumping her cervix and pushing up to it, opening her body slightly around him. “Riddick! Unghhh…oh…” 

As if her moan of pleasure had giving him permission Hermione felt his body swell inside her, touching off her own orgasm as he withdrew and thrust up into her even harder, grinding his hips to hers and growling her name as his seed filled her again. “Mya! Fuck…fuck! Mya…”

He was always gentle with her afterwards, no matter how rough they got with each other during their lovemaking. Hermione let her fingertips drift over his shoulders as he carefully cleaned her up. Sometimes they were even gentle with each other during sex. As if Riddick was proving to himself that he could be.

“Hmm… time’s it?” She looked at the clock on the wall.

“Almost gotta get ready.” Riddick kissed her forehead and began to help her up. “We got time for a shower though if you want one.”

“Definitely.” Hermione nodded and her husband stood, picking her up as if she was a feather in his arms. “Winky and Snips said they’d pack up everything that was ours after we got dressed. Take it to the estates.”

He grinned at her. “Then let’s get going.”


	24. Chapter 24

The halls of Hogwarts were quiet. This wasn’t the first time they’d snuck through the castle late at night, though it was one of the few times they weren’t worried about being caught. 

The children who'd chosen to throw in their lot with the Boy Who Lived and the Brightest Witch of Her Age waited within the estates for their new lives to begin, away from the blood prejudice and stagnant society of the Wizarding world. The estates were as prepared as they could be, each closed up tight, warded to a fare thee well and the doors to the Faery realms finally unlocked. Andromeda was with Teddy and some of the older children at Grimmauld to give the Dark house some added stability. The elves had taken the travelers bags of belongings and all they carried were their wands, and in her and Riddick’s case, bone knives.

Luna arrived in the entry hall a few minutes after they did and Ginny showed up five minutes after that. One of the elves to whom she’d bound herself had gone to the rebuilt Burrow and left a letter for her parents, retrieving Ginny’s belongings and now popped away with Ginny’s truck. 

Hermione found herself watching Ginny with concern, wondering if the girl would regret her choice at this late hour, but the youngest Weasley was arm in arm with Neville and her attention all upon his face. Happiness lit her expression as Neville kissed her forehead and Hermione smiled. 

Riddick's lips against her ear were soft and his words a whisper only she would hear, "Stop worryin' about her. She's bound, right and tight, to Neville, just like Luna and Harry are bound to each other. Ain't like ours but it's a good solid bond. She won't hold us back."

Hermione looked up at her husband, part of her still amazed that she was married. "Excited to go home?"

"Excited to fuckin' see home." He admitted with a grin and she almost laughed aloud. She'd forgotten for a moment that for all it was his homeworld, Riddick was just as much a stranger to Furya as she was. He'd told her that before he'd been pulled into her world and Hogwarts he'd never even been to Earth. He'd spent his life on different planets, none of them his homeworld or Earth. Earth was the past to him. Soon it would become the past to her, Harry and the others. She wondered if that reality had hit Harry yet, that they were truly leaving.

Hermione looked at Harry and smiled slightly, “Did you want to leave the Marauder’s Map here? Or give it to George maybe?”

Harry’s smile was a bit sad. “I think… I might keep it. See if it works still.” 

Neville offered them a half grin, “If it does it’d be fun to see the future generations of Weasleys and Malfoys walk through the halls.”

Luna laughed, her blue eyes happy, “Of course it’ll work. And someday we’ll return to this world and bring Hogwarts back with us.”

That had given everyone food for thought as they’d walked slowly to the circle.

The centaurs had met them at the forest’s edge and Firenze had nodded to them solemnly. “Welcome, walkers of worlds. May your journeys be swift and all perils overcome.”

“Thank you,” Hermione nodded in return. “May your arrows be swift and your aim true, and may the stars guide you always.”

The circle waited before them. It was time.

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She could feel every bond she had, freely taken, magic exchanged, promises given, silver, gold, copper and pure white… all of them tied her to others in some way. She was bound to The Potter's Wheel as a Potter. Bound to Harry as his sister. To Bibs and Winky as a friend and family. To Grimmauld as a cousin. Connected to Luna, Ginny and Neville as friends. And Riddick. Bound to Riddick as his wife, his soulmate, beyond magic or place. 

She had stood in the center, the others taking their places as points on the pentagram, earth, air, water, fire and spirit. Strangely no one had argued or wondered where to go. Everyone had known their places. Luna to Water, Neville to Earth, Ginny to Fire and Harry to Air while Riddick stood in the point for Spirit.

‘What will you Risk? What will you Dare?’ Shirah’s latest taunt echoed in her memory and Hermione had stiffened her resolve. Opening herself up to the Old Ones had been the most frightening thing she’d ever done. The amount of power that surged through her was like riding a tsunami or a tornado.

Asking the Old Ones to guide her to Furya, that was another terrifying decision, but if she’d understood Gaia and Shirah correctly, she was the one who had to choose. She was bound to all of them, the focal point, and more importantly the one who’d come up with the idea in the first place. If she couldn’t take this step, commit to this future completely, then it would all be for nothing.

She fixed her gaze upon the stars, a bright point halfway to the horizon drew her eye and everything seemed to vibrate around her. Hermione concentrated on focusing her thoughts, longing filling her, ‘I seek Furya. We are the descendants of the Tuatha de Danan and we choose to go to our home across worlds. Guide us please.’

“Guide me,” Hermione spoke the words aloud, not hearing the echo of power in her voice, the way it circled the stones like a whirlwind surrounding her. 

Bright light and shadows so deep they were near black.

Pain, hot, sharp, a thousand needles piercing her skin.

Dizzying winds, water roiling around her, ground shaking beneath her feet and an inferno whipping through it all.

Pure white.

Everything was white.

Pure.

White.

Glass.

Silver.

Grey.

Mists and shades drifting.

Blood and Shadows.

Darkness.

Compression.

Breath.

Compression.

Breathe again.

And again.

Twisting, pulling, stretching so tightly she’ll tear.

A snap, sensation echoing through her.

Compression.

Another breath.

Voices.

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“Wake child. Wake Sorceress. And breathe life into your world.” Gaia’s voice woke her, its motherly tone still far more powerful than any human woman’s could be. Impossible to ignore.

Sun and shadow, dancing across faded grass. Hermione looked up at Gaia and put her hand on the ground where she was kneeling. “Will you help me? I’m not sure what to do.”

The Mother of all children smiled and covered Hermione’s hand with her own. “Breathe with me child. And we will wake your new home to life again.”

Shocking though the power flowing through her was, it was still easier to breathe with Gaia than it had been to channel the power of the Old Ones for the journey. Feeling the deity reach deep into the world and wake the slumbering heart of it, watching tendrils of life creep out and connect, and hearing Furya’s heart begin to beat as it reconnected with Faery and magic was extraordinary. Nature wasn’t always gentle and neither was creation but Furya wasn’t dead and magic wasn’t lost.

Still, Hermione was dizzy and swaying with the effort of channeling Gaia by the time they were done.

“Riddick?” Hermione looked at Gaia hopefully. “Where is he?”

“All you must do is call to him,” The Old One smiled at her and kissed her forehead. “This is your world. You and he are bound, as you are bound to all your companions. Simply open your heart and call them to you. They, and all to whom they are bound, will join you here. Just as you opened yourself to me, to Ostera, open yourself to Furya.”

Hermione took a deep breath and placed her palm flat on the newly woken earth beneath her, finding the heart of Furya with greater ease than she expected, and gently touched it, opening her power to her new home and putting her need into words. ‘I need my husband, my family and friends, they are waiting. We must bring them home.’

The joy she felt from Furya was overwhelming. The sense of loneliness and pain suddenly alleviated by warmth and companionship sent power flooding through her. Dizziness blurred her vision and her ears popped as if with a pressure change before a slightly sheepish withdrawal of Furya’s power. 

When her vision cleared she was in the center of the circle again, the stones gone but her friends, family and Riddick at the pentagram’s points around her.

She’d barely begun to rise to her feet, albeit unsteadily, when Riddick’s hands clamped around her shoulders and he clutched her to him tightly, his face buried in her hair. “Don’t ever fuckin’ do that to me again woman,” He growled in an uneven voice. “Fucking faded away right in front of me. Longest five damned minutes of my fucking life!” 

He was holding her as if he’d never let her go, the new world he was standing on unseen around him. Hermione simply wrapped her arms around him and held on, kissing his neck. “I’m here. I’m fine. It had to be me. I had to choose. Shirah tried to tell me but I didn’t understand until a few days ago.”

“Fuck Shirah.” Her husband growled but relaxed a bit though he still didn’t let go of her.

“Let’s do a head count,” Neville suggested quietly and Harry and the girls agreed. “If we can find the Houses.”

Hermione twisted in Riddick’s arms and closed her eyes. “They appeared at the cardinal points of the compass. Longbottom Hall is right behind you Neville. The Rookery is to the right. Grimmauld place is to the left and the Potter's Wheel is directly across from Longbottom Hall. They’re…” She concentrated a moment. “Oh, they’re putting down roots. When they’re settled in they’ll open their doors and if we want to move then we can. Furya needs to welcome them a bit. Get their magic blended.”

“How long will that take?” Harry asked curiously, though without any real urgency in his voice. “Are Andromeda and the kids inside all right?”

Riddick was the one who answered, “They’re fine. Didn’t feel a thing beyond a little magic vibrating. As for how long? Hard to explain hours and minutes to a planet that goes by seasons and suns.”

Luna giggled and flopped back on the newly growing grass. “That makes sense. Though the sooner the doors open the quicker the kids can come out and see their new home.”

Hermione and Riddick both looked at each other as Hermione felt an eager little pulse from the world they were standing on. “I don’t think it’ll be too long, Furya is eager for her people.”

Neville pointed at the Rookery which was slowly appearing as a thatched cottage growing out of a hill. “I get the feeling you’re right.”

Riddick nodded at Longbottom Hall which was fading into view, a sprawling farmhouse with terraces and porches wrapping around it. “Looks like your place is settling in.”

Hermione and Harry both turned to look for the Potter's Wheel which was appearing with its typical kiln on the side. It seemed to have been grown out of the earth, stucco and clay with slightly curved walls and a large rounded door.

Ginny laughed as Grimmauld place seemed to appear in the mountain side, a grim stone edifice that bristled with defensive magic and a thick door. “I think Grimmauld hasn’t changed much.”

Hermione looked up at Riddick as the doors the Houses opened and elves and children alike began to pour out. “We’re finally home.”

His silver eyes were bright and pleased as he bent to kiss her. “We’re home yeah. But I was home the day I met you sweetness. Just took me a while to figure it out.” Hermione smiled against his lips and gave herself up to the magic in his kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it folks! Hope you enjoyed. Might do something else with this type of crossover but not sure yet. Have a Happy New Year!


End file.
